And There Were Three
by StinaMarie0122
Summary: A shamed warrior monk, a summoner disgraced for wedding an Al Bhed woman, and a man from Zanarkand. Together, Auron, Braska, and Jecht travel through Spira to reach the ruined city of Zanarkand and achieve the Final Summoning. Everyone knows Tidus's story. Everyone knows Yuna's story. Now, the legends who came before them have a story of their own. (Includes Jecht's spheres)
1. The Game

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in here, except for the original characters I created. I'm simply a Final Fantasy fangirl.**

 **Hi, everyone! I'm StinaMarie. Welcome to my fanfic. I haven't written one of these in a while, but I do keep up on my writing quite regularly. :) I recently bought the X/X-2 HD Remaster for the PS4 and naturally am back on a Final Fantasy kick, so I thought I would write a new fanfic.**

 **This story contains ALL of the Jecht spheres in the game (and Auron's and Braska's), as well as some cutscenes, which have been incorporated into the story. **

**I hope you enjoy the first chapter and stick around for more! The story is officially complete, so I won't leave you hanging if you get hooked! I'll try to post consistently, once a week.**

 **That's all for housekeeping matters! Please enjoy, and drop me a review! :)**

* * *

A pounding at the door awakened Jecht from what would have been an otherwise peaceful sleep if not for the splitting headache.

He groaned as he sat up in his makeshift bed on the couch. An empty bottle clattered to the floor at his feet. He leaned forward onto his knees, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Someone pounded at the door again. "Jecht? You in there?"

"Yeah," he muttered back. "What do you want?"

"Are you decent?"

"Course I'm decent! What do you want?"

The door opened and in came his teammate, Sonnie. At the sight of Jecht looking worse for wear and out of uniform, Sonnie sighed. "Come on, man," he said, collecting the bottles at Jecht's feet and tossing them in the trash. "The game starts in an hour. On top of that, you missed practice!"

"I'm the captain. I can miss as much practice as I want."

"Well, it's the last game before the finals. And as hungover as you are, you could use the extra time."

"Well, look who's acting all high and mighty," Jecht snorted.

Sonnie scowled at him. "Your wife has been looking for you, you know. She said you never came home last night."

Jecht waved him off and staggered to his feet. "She knows we have a game tonight."

"You should've at least let her know where you were."

"You buttin' into my life now?"

"All I'm saying is she was worried, Jecht—and rightfully so."

Jecht fished through the refrigerator in the small kitchen and found a fresh bottle of unopened alcohol. He took a swig and shot Sonnie a warning glare. "You just worry about catching the ball. _I_ will worry about everything else—including my wife."

Sonnie shook his head, dismissing Jecht's arrogance. "Let's go. Everyone is waiting for you."

Jecht finished off the small bottle and tossed it into the trash. He and Sonnie left the break room, making their way through the empty halls of the Zanarkand Dome Underground. The music aboveground was so loud that it rattled the walls around them. Sonnie was right—everyone _was_ waiting for Jecht.

"So what happened to you after practice last night?" Sonnie asked. "Last we saw, you were heading home. Did you make a few stops on the way back?"

"Maybe I did," Jecht replied. "What's it to you?"

Sonnie rolled his eyes. "Do you always have to be so confrontational?"

"I just don't know why you're so concerned with my business."

"Because we're all worried about…never mind."

"And, yeah. Maybe I did go out last night. It soothes me, all right? Helps me prepare my mind for the game."

"So you're nervous?"

"Ha! I'm never nervous. What's there to be nervous about?"

Sonnie glanced at him. "You should know there's been talk, Jecht."

"Oh, yeah? About what?"

"That you plan to retire."

Jecht stopped walking. "Who's been saying that?"

"I've heard a little here and there."

"From who?"

"Everyone." He narrowed his eyes, studying Jecht. "Is it true?"

"Course not! And if I find anyone saying otherwise, I'll pop him square in the jaw. Blitzball is my life, Sonnie. You know that."

" _I_ know that. But when you hear rumors, you have to wonder."

"Until you hear it from _my_ mouth, it means nothing." He picked up the pace again and Sonnie followed. Jecht wanted to act like it meant nothing, but it did. He couldn't just brush it off. The only reasons a blitzer would retire were for injury, old age, or a career slump. He wasn't injured, and he wasn't old. He didn't _think_ he was in any kind of a slump, but that didn't mean his fans agreed. All it took was one disbeliever.

He would brush it off for now, at least until after the game. He and Sonnie reached the locker room and found the rest of the team waiting for them. A collective sigh of relief went up as they entered. "What?" Jecht asked. "Everyone miss me or something?"

"We were worried you wouldn't show, Captain," Tokkan said.

"I always show. Never missed a game in my life."

"You've also never cut it this close either," Sonnie added.

"It's the last game before finals. I'm here now, ain't I? So let's get upstairs and meet our adoring fans!"

He turned to leave but stopped when he realized no one was following. His teammates stared at him with sad, droopy eyes. "Is it true, Captain?" Aladan asked. "Are you going to…to retire?"

Jecht crossed his arms. "No. It's absolutely _not_ true."

"Apparently," Sonnie said, "those are just rumors. Right, Captain?"

"That's right. I ain't going nowhere."

"They say that…well, because of your drinking…you aren't as good as you used to be," Tokkan added. "That's why you plan to quit."

"Listen," Jecht said. "The next time you hear someone talking all this nonsense, I want you to send him my way. I'm not retiring and that's that!" He headed for the door once more. "Now are we gonna win a game of blitzball or not?"

* * *

Beyond the doors, they chanted his name.

Jecht stood just outside the door to the sphere globe with his teammates lined up behind him. In the crook of his elbow, he held a red and orange blitzball. His heart thundered away in his chest and his blood rushed with adrenaline. There really was no better moment than waiting for the doors of the globe to open.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice boomed from the speakers, "please welcome THE ZANARKAND AAAAAAABES!"

The door before them retracted into the ground. Jecht, leading the way, marched through the doorway and onto the platform of the blitzball globe. A catwalk stretched around the center perimeter of the globe, where the players could line up and wave to their adoring fans. The applause was so loud, the walls of the Dome shook.

Jecht, of course, soaked it all up. He strolled along the catwalk with his chest puffed out, waving to the crowds. The stadium was at full capacity tonight, which would make any average person nervous, but not Jecht. It just meant more people were there to watch him win.

One by one, the announcer introduced the Abes. They would wave, then dive into the half-filled globe and start warming up. Jecht, the captain and the star player, received the warmest welcome. The spotlight shined down on him for all to see. He waved. He bowed. He flexed. He absorbed every second of his fame before diving into the water with his teammates.

The opponents, a lesser-known team from Zanarkand called the Duggles, were booed during their introductions, in typical fashion. They joined the Abes in the sphere globe, reluctantly sharing the space and exchanging dirty looks with their opponents.

An attendant swam out after about ten minutes to collect the practice balls while water filled the rest of the globe. Jecht shook hands with the opposing team's captain, making sure to squeeze extra hard. Once formalities were exchanged, the attendant left the globe and the players assumed their positions.

A countdown from thirty appeared on the scoreboard. Jecht glanced back at Sonnie, who gave him a thumbs-up. When game-time came, everyone was on the same page. They forgot about their problems completely. All that matter was how they played.

At the three-second mark, the game ball ejected from a metal compartment at the bottom of the globe, and the announcer cried, "BLITZ!"

Jecht swam hard, snatching the ball from the opponent. The rest of his teammates swam toward the goal, opening themselves for the pass. The Duggle captain tackled Jecht but could not get the ball. Jecht threw a hard pass halfway across the globe toward Tokkan, who promptly caught the ball. The team advanced on the goal, scoring their first point in less than two minutes.

The game went on in similar fashion for the rest of the first half, with the Abes taking the lead 4-3. By the intermission, everyone was feeling pumped. The locker room was ablaze with energy, and no one could keep quiet.

"We aren't out of the woods yet," Sonnie said, quieting them down. "We have to keep our eye on the prize."

"Oh, take it easy, Sonnie," Jecht said stepping up on the bench. "We're doing damn good so far."

"Yes, but they're doing just as well."

"Everyone just keep playing the same," Jecht ordered, "and we'll be sure to take home the cup tonight."

"Jecht," Sonnie said in a warning voice. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

"I'm sorry, co-Captain," Jecht snorted, "but I give the orders around here. So cool it."

"We win this game," Tokkan said, "and we're in the finals!"

The team whooped and cheered.

"Where are you taking us to celebrate, Captain?" Aladan asked. The others laughed.

"All right, all right," Jecht said. "We win this match and drinks are on me!"

"Don't be yanking our legs now," Aladan warned.

A voice over the speaker announced that it was time to return to the globe. The team filed out, but Jecht lingered behind. He fished out the half bottle of whiskey from the fridge and polished it off. Nothing amped him up for a game like a fresh buzz.

But by the time the second half of the game started, he was beyond buzzed. He caught the first ball but lost his grip when a Duggle tackled him and stole it. Across the way, he heard Sonnie curse. He would get it back. He wasn't worried at all. Jecht picked up the pace and swam after the ball, but the Duggles scored again. The score was now 4-4.

Back and forth they went until only five minutes remained, and neither team had broken the tie. The Duggles had brought their A-game for the second round, and hadn't let up since. Jecht's teammates swam his way after Sonnie called a timeout. "What's the plan, Cap'n?" Tokkan asked.

"Pass the ball to me," Jecht replied. "We've got five minutes left to score."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Sonnie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What'd you say?" Jecht demanded. "You pass the ball to me and we'll be sure to win. Just who do you think you're talking to?"

"All right, all right," Sonnie said, raising his hands defensively. "It's just…you seem…"

"Seem what?"

"Never mind." He looked at the others. "Get the ball to Captain. We'll take it home after that."

They broke the huddle and swam to their positions. The game ball reset, and the Abes swam with everything they had. Jecht advanced on the enemy's goal while Tokkan intercepted a pass from one Duggle to the next. He swam forward far enough to get a clear shot across the globe, then passed to Aladan. All the while, Jecht continued to swim for the goal line, feeling dizzier than he cared to admit. He'd had a preparatory drink before and during every match he played in, but lately he found he couldn't hold it together.

 _Maybe you_ are _nervous,_ a voice in his head said. _Maybe those rumors are getting to you. You're not washed up, are you?_

Jecht shook his head. "I'm the great Jecht. Nothin' gets by me," he muttered to himself.

"Captain!" Sonnie screamed across the pool. "Look alive!"

Jecht jerked his head up just in time to see the ball coming his way. His heart skipped a beat, and he lunged for the ball, missing it.

But he was fast. He caught it before it could fumble, and before his opponent could steal it. With a hard, sloppy tackle, he pushed his way past the Duggle blocking his path. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. The enemy had foreseen their plan, and all of the team had ganged up on him.

"You have to pass!" Tokkan cried.

"Pass, Captain!" Aladan added.

But there was no way he'd let them take this victory. This was his moment. He would take them to the finals with this winning pass.

Sonnie must've sensed his indecision. As Jecht drew his arm back, Sonnie screamed, "Captain, no!"

But it was too late. He pushed himself up over his opponents' heads and launched the ball toward the goal. It sailed through the water, speeding toward the goal line. His breathing slowed as he waited for the buzzer to sound his victory, but it didn't come. The goalie caught the ball.

For a moment, all Jecht could do was stare, floating in the water while the enemy took the ball across the pool toward their goal. He had missed. He _never_ missed. What was going on?

 _You're a has-been!_ the voice in his head laughed. _You're getting old, Jecht. Maybe it's time to quit._

He ignored the voice and swam after the others. In the back of his mind, he heard the announcer's disappointment. "What's this, folks? It looks like Jecht missed the game-winning shot!"

With ten seconds left on the clock, there wasn't much left to do. He kept swimming, but his limbs felt like jelly. He slowed down when he realized it was hopeless. The most sickening sound he'd ever heard was of the buzzer signaling the Duggles' victory—and the Abes' loss. They wouldn't see the final matches next month. They'd go home tonight, and that would be it for the rest of the season.

"The Zanarkand Duggles have won the match, decimating the Abes' win-streak of six straight games!" the announcer cried.

The same crowd that had cheered for them less than an hour ago now cheered for the Duggles. The enemy captain swam past Jecht, clapping him on the back. "Good game," he sneered.

In a fit of anger and disappointment, Jecht lunged at the captain and drew his fist back, preparing to strike. The only thing that stopped him was his teammates yanking him back. "No need to be a sore loser," the captain laughed. "You'll get us next year—maybe."

He and his players swam off, while the Abes remained afloat in the globe. No one said anything. Jecht didn't dare make eye contact with any of them. He could feel their anger and resentment from where he was.

"Let's go," Sonnie said. "We've gotta clear out the Dome."

The others followed him, Jecht being the last. How had he missed that pass? He never missed _anything_. Even in practice, he was amazing. It wasn't because of the drinking, he knew that much. Maybe it was just bad luck?

 _Tell yourself that,_ said the familiar voice. _Make yourself feel better for costing the team the finals._

Things were a lot different in the locker room than they had been the last time. No one said a word. Everyone collected their things in silence, never meeting Jecht's eye. As captain—and as the one who'd ruined things—he felt he had to say _something_. "Listen, guys," he sighed. "I, uh…I don't know what to say."

"How about, 'I'm a lousy captain'?" Sonnie said.

"Excuse me?"

"It's not always about you, Jecht. It's about all of us. We're a team. But your head is so high up in the clouds, you can't see straight. And you're a damn alcoholic on top of it."

"I can quit drinkin' anytime I want," Jecht insisted.

Sonnie shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"That's just one person's opinion."

"No, it's everyone's opinion. They just don't have the gall to tell it to your face. I, on the other hand, do."

Jecht looked at the others, feeling a little sick inside. "Is that true?"

Aladan shrugged. "Well…if you'd passed to one of us…we might've won."

"Tokkan?" Jecht said, looking at him.

Tokkan busied himself with packing up his bag. "It's just…well…we think your drinking is interfering with your playing."

"That's bull," Jecht said, crossing his arms. "I've played plenty of games after a few drinks and won each of 'em."

"Then…I don't know," Tokkan sighed with a shrug. "Maybe…maybe it is time."

"Time for _what_?"

"To take a break," Sonnie finished.

"You mean retire."

"Maybe."

Jecht snatched up his bag and hiked it over his shoulder. "I don't believe this. We lose _one_ game and suddenly everyone's got mutiny on the mind. Well, guess what? I ain't goin' nowhere."

"It wasn't just any game, Jecht," Sonnie replied heatedly. "It was the _last_ game before the finals."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Well, you don't seem to care."

"I don't _care_? This is my life, you know!"

"Then something's gotta give," Sonnie said. "Because this wasn't the first time this kind of thing has happened. It's just the first time we've decided not to let it slip by. Get it together or…or you can't play on the team anymore."

Jecht laughed. "You can't kick me off. I'm the captain."

"Official league rules state that if the entire team supports the expulsion of any one member—even the captain—that member must be removed."

Jecht yanked the door open and stepped outside. "You get rid of me and this team will crash into the ground. You hear me?" He slammed the door shut behind him and marched through the hall of the Dome.

"Where are you going?" Sonnie cried, chasing after him. "To a bar?"

"None of your business."

"Don't you ever learn, Jecht?"

Jecht wheeled around to face him, his eyes filled with fire and his blood boiling. "Take one more step toward me, Sonnie, and I swear, it's the last thing you'll do."

Wide-eyed, Sonnie backed away. "We're just…worried about you."

Jecht shook his head and turned around, continuing down the hall.

And yes, he _was_ going to a bar. He would need a whole lot of drinks to calm his nerves after this evening.

* * *

Jecht stumbled in through the door of his house somewhere around midnight. Every light was off except for the one in the kitchen. He made his way inside and collapsed into an empty chair. His arms and legs ached and his head hadn't stopped pounding since Sonnie had woken him.

But worse than the physical pain was the embarrassment of losing the match—and everything that his teammates had said afterwards. He replayed that final pass over and over again in his mind. He had missed the goal by inches—something that had never happened before during a game.

The hallway light came on and he looked up to find his wife standing in the doorway, a robe pulled tightly around her for warmth. A sad, forced smile came to her lips. "You're home," she said.

"Elena," he replied. "I…I'm sorry. I know I've worried you. I should've called…or something…"

She took a seat beside him and placed her hand over his. "It's all right. You're home now—and safe." She leaned into him and nestled herself in his arms. "I've missed you."

Holding her, Jecht was immediately flooded with guilt. "And I've missed you. I'll never put you through that again. I promise."

She pulled away from him and smiled. Sometimes he wished she would be angrier with him. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd done this to her. But it wasn't in her nature to hold onto such anger. He really would have to try harder—if not for himself, then for her.

"So," Jecht said, "where's the kid?"

"Asleep," Elena replied. "He was really tired."

"Did, uh…did he watch the match?"

She looked down. "No. He's still angry with you about yesterday. About what you said."

 _Good,_ Jecht thought. _I wouldn't want him to see his old man looking like a fool._ "It was all in good fun," Jecht said. "Of course he's got what it takes—he's _my_ son, after all. He'll become the next blitzing legend once I'm done."

Elena smiled. "Someday," she said. "He didn't watch, but I did."

"Oh…you did?"

"Of course. I always do."

"I wish this time you wouldn't have."

"Why?" she asked. "Just because you lost? It happens to the best of them, dear."

"No," Jecht said. "Because I…I humiliated myself."

She placed a hand against his cheek. "I don't think so. But if you really feel so bad about it, maybe you ought to take some extra time to practice? It can't hurt."

Extra time to practice? He _never_ needed extra time to practice. It just came naturally to him.

Except for tonight, of course. Maybe Elena was right—maybe he needed to do some reevaluating, of both himself and his form. Like she said, it couldn't hurt. He just couldn't let anyone know what he was up to. What would they think of the great Jecht then, if he'd gotten so sloppy that he needed extra training?

"Maybe you're right," he said, rising to his feet. He approached the window and stared out at the sea. The stars twinkled in the black night sky above. "Maybe I just need some time away to get my head on straight."

"You might feel better," Elena said.

"Yeah. I might." He watched the waves lap at the edge of the dock and remembered how much he loved being out in the ocean with open space all around—not trapped inside of a giant fish bowl. At sea was where his love for blitzball began. "You know, maybe I ought to go out for a day at sea. That always seems to clear my mind."

Elena approached his side and gazed into the night with him. "You always seem to come back happier after a day at sea. Maybe you should."

"Yeah. Yeah!" He faced her and took her hands. "I think I will. I'll leave in the morning, come back in time for dinner. What do you think?"

She smiled. "I think it would be great."

He took her into his arms and kissed her. The prospect of a day at sea flipped his mood completely, even if he was a little drunk. He would leave before sunrise, train for eight hours nonstop, and come back in time for dinner with his wife and kid. And when he did come back, he would be in better shape, ready for another match—one that he wouldn't lose.

"You should get some sleep if you plan to get up early," Elena said.

"Yeah, I will," Jecht replied. "I'm just gonna get some air for a bit first. I'll be to bed soon."

"Don't be too long." She gave him one last kiss and headed for the bedroom, shutting off the light behind her.

Jecht made his way outside and leaned against the railing. The gentle breeze soothed him and put him at ease. It helped him push all thoughts of the match behind him. He had a plan to fix things, and it would work. It always worked. He couldn't shame his wife and kid with his shortcomings. He _had_ to fix things.

He started at the sound of the door opening behind him, but relaxed when he realized it was only Tidus, standing there in his pajamas. His hair was a mess and his eyes were only half-open. "Oh. It's you," Jecht said. "Your mother said you were asleep."

Tidus rubbed his eyes, scowling. "I was. But _you_ woke me up."

"So, what? Did you come out here to yell at me for it?"

Tidus gave him one last glare before turning to leave. He stopped at the door with his hand on the knob. "Mommy said you lost the match."

Jecht didn't turn around. He didn't want to look at him, didn't want to face whatever Tidus felt toward him. "Yeah. What about it?"

"They say you don't practice anymore. That you're gonna retire."

Jecht's jaw almost dropped. Even his own son had heard the rumors? "Let 'em talk," he said, trying to keep his cool. "I'm still the best."

"They say you're no good 'cause you drink all the time."

"I can quit drinking anytime I want."

Tidus looked down at the ground. "Then do it now," he muttered.

Jecht wheeled around to face him. "What did you say?"

His eyes widened. "Y-You just said you can!"

Jecht studied him through narrowed eyes before letting him off the hook. "Heh. Tomorrow, maybe."

Tidus faced him. "Why not today?"

"Why do today what you can leave for tomorrow?"

Tidus just sighed and shook his head. Jecht would never tell him, but he hated seeing that disappointment in his son's eyes—especially when it was disappointment toward him.

"Hey, wait," Jecht said as Tidus began to head inside. "I'm going out to sea tomorrow for some training."

Tidus blinked. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll be gone before you wake up and won't be back until dinner. So you be good for your mother, got it?"

Tidus nodded.

"And no crying. You always cry." Tidus's classic glare returned, which made Jecht grin. "Yeah. That's what I thought. Now go to bed."

"I hate you," he muttered on the way in.

Jecht had heard it a thousand times before. It no longer fazed him. He wished Tidus would toughen up, but maybe it just took time. He was only seven years old, after all.

Jecht gazed out at the sea once more. Yes, he would definitely set things right. He had to set an example for his son if he ever wanted that runt to follow in his footsteps. Of course, the best way for Tidus to improve was with some old-fashioned constructive criticism, which Jecht readily handed out. Every time he criticized him, Tidus only tried harder. As far as Jecht was concerned, it worked.

With one last look at the water, Jecht turned back to go inside. Elena was right. He needed his rest if he was going to get up early.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Again, I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review, and watch for chapter two next Friday, 7/3/15!**


	2. At Sea

**Welcome back, and thanks to those of you who have read and reviewed so far! I thought I would give you chapter two a little early, and post chapter three on the original scheduled date of 7/3/15. Just as a little extra treat. :)**

 **As always, please enjoy! And leave a review once you're done. I appreciate all feedback, and if I missed something or something is inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix it. I want this story to be in tip-top shape!**

 **Rush: You are right about the "Sir" Jecht thing. I thought I'd read somewhere that Jecht, being so full of himself, starting calling himself "Sir Jecht" long before Spira, but I must've misread it. Thanks for pointing that out! I've fixed it. :)**

* * *

"All aboard!"

Jecht filed onto the ship after the other travelers, carrying nothing but a bag and a blitzball. Despite being slightly hungover, he hadn't felt this good in a while. Nothing could change his mood like a day at sea—especially one with no one to bother him.

The entire journey would take about eight hours, docking twice along the way as the ship made its loop around Zanarkand. When it docked, he would get out and swim laps until he wanted to pass out. Then he'd get back on the ship and practice his passes and throws. He would make sure he never lost a game like that again.

Within minutes, the ship pulled away from the port, and they were off. Under the orange and purple morning sky, nothing could change his mood. The early morning breeze swept past him, carrying a scent of sea salt along with it.

Most of the other travelers were merchants on a job, bouncing between ports to collect necessary goods for their inventory or to rake in some fish while aboard the ship. They kept to themselves, quiet and half-awake as they were. Fortunately, none of them seemed to recognize or notice Jecht. The last thing he wanted was for word to get back that he needed extra practice.

Once they were well enough away from the port, Jecht took out the ball and began warming up. He juggled the ball between his feet, bounced it off the walls of the ship, and practiced his boomerang passes, sending the ball out to sea only to have it return moments later.

It didn't take long for him to get bored though, and boredom led to him replaying the last night's match over and over again. It would've been one thing to just miss the pass and lose the game, but the conversation that followed with his teammates left a bad taste in his mouth. They wouldn't really try to kick him off the team—would they?

Blitzball was his life. Without it, he was just…average. He couldn't imagine a world where he didn't play. It was as much a part of him as his family. He would go back home and show them just how serious he was, and they would realize just how much they needed him.

"Practicing for next year?" someone asked.

Jecht turned around and found Ostlund, the captain of the Zanarkand Chargers, standing there with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Jecht stopped the ball with his foot and looked the man in the eye. "Just enjoying a day out at sea," he replied. "What're you doin' out here, Ostlund? They wouldn't let you in the Dome, or what?"

Ostlund chuckled. "Please. If anyone is going to be banned from the Dome, it'll be you. That move with the Duggle captain was a little out of line, don't you think?"

"All's fair in blitzball," Jecht said with a shrug.

"Except that the game was already over by then."

Jecht scooped up the ball and sighed. "Is there somethin' I can help you with? Or do I need to make you leave?"

"Always so hostile," Ostlund said, shaking his head. "I just wanted to say hello—and to invite you to the first match of the finals, since you won't be making it on your own accord."

"I've been to the finals before. Several times, in fact. It's not so great."

"Keep telling yourself that." He turned to leave, but Jecht stopped him. "Hey, Ostlund. You won't, uh…tell anyone you saw me here, will you?"

Ostlund grinned. "Of course not. It's your business, isn't it? Even the best of us could use a little extra practice."

"I'm not here to practice," Jecht insisted. "I'm just here for a day at sea, like I told you."

"Right. How could I forget?"

As he walked away, Jecht sincerely hoped that Ostlund would keep his mouth shut. His reputation was important, and if Ostlund tried to tarnish it with lies, he would have to knock him down a peg or two.

Knowing Ostlund was aboard made practicing that much more difficult. What if he was watching so he could steal Jecht's moves? What if he would go back and spread rumors, telling everyone how Jecht needed to hide his shortcomings on a boat in the middle of nowhere? The paranoia was more than he could bear.

He put away the ball for the time being and leaned over the railing, gazing into the clear blue waters. What if everyone was right? What if it really was time for him to take a break? Maybe the rumors about his alleged retirement had become a self-fulfilling prophecy, and he had led himself into his own demise. He'd thought that a day at sea would make everything better, but for the first time in his life, it wasn't working.

Suddenly, the ship collided with something beneath the surface of the water. Jecht flew backwards, landing flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Everyone else had lost their balance, too, stumbling around or falling down. When Jecht sat up, he looked around and found most of them lying on the deck in confusion and disarray.

"What'd we hit?" someone asked.

"Was it a reef?" another cried.

"We're too far out to hit a reef!"

"Maybe a school of sharks?"

"Is the ship damaged?"

"Are we going to sink?"

Jecht got back on his feet and went to the edge, peering into the ocean. All he saw was the water below, just as it was before. There were no sharks or reefs—just endless ocean, all the way to the bottom of the sea.

Then it happened again. The others were tossed around again—some even went over the edge—but Jecht was prepared. He gripped the railing while the ship rocked back and forth. This time, he spotted something down below. Something large and brown. Something so big, he couldn't see where it ended or began. Was it some kind of sea creature, or maybe a reef out in the middle of nowhere?

The captain's voice came over the speaker. "Everyone, please! In an orderly fashion, get yourselves below deck! I repeat: get your—"

The ship rocked again, cutting the captain off and throwing everyone all over the place. Jecht lost his grip on the railing and somersaulted toward the north wall of the captain's bridge, smacking his head against the wood paneling. Stars danced in his vision, preventing him from moving.

All around him, the others screamed. Jecht shook his head to clear his head, but the sight before him almost made him wish he couldn't see. At the mast of the ship, the head of a massive beast rose from the waters. The head alone was at least five times the size of the ship, and with each second that passed, the creature only grew larger. All anyone could do was stare.

The beast had the face of a whale, but instead of two eyes, it had perhaps twenty scattered in various places on its face. It looked as if a small city had been built—or even grown—on top of its head. The rest of its massive body remained submerged, but everyone could tell by the size of its head alone that the beast was enormous beyond their comprehension. It might've been several times larger than the Zanarkand Dome itself.

"ABANDON SHIP!" someone screamed. No one needed to be told twice. Most, if not all, had jumped without being told. Jecht knew that even if the ship had weapons, there was no way they'd stand a chance against this thing. Their best bet was to jump ship and hope they survived.

Jecht clambered to his feet and sprinted down the deck, refusing to look back. Behind him, the beast let out a roar so loud, Jecht lost his balance and fell. Its cry vibrated the ship, making Jecht dizzy and nauseous. For a moment, he thought his insides would burst. He lay on the deck, wriggling in pain and pressing his hands to his ears, praying that it would stop.

At last, it did. He sprang to his feet and continued down the deck, heading for the stern of the ship. The idea was to get as far away from the beast as possible—even if reaching the stern wouldn't make much of a difference, he'd at least be that much farther away.

Jecht dared to look over his shoulder. At that moment, the creature threw the side of its head into the front of the ship, shattering it to pieces and splitting the ship in half. Jecht tripped for the umpteenth time, but found it impossible to return to his feet with the way the boat rocked. Behind him, the beast continued to rip the ship to pieces. It opened its mouth and inhaled, vacuuming the broken ship little by little.

Jecht clawed at the floorboards but it was futile. He felt himself being lifted from the deck as the creature attempted to suck him up. With every last ounce of strength he had, he pulled himself towards the railing. Then he launched himself over the edge of the deck and into the water.

The water, as it turned out, wasn't much of a better choice. Swallowed by the sea, the ocean swells dragged him under with each passing second—or maybe it was that creature. Maybe Jecht hadn't escaped after all.

Maybe this was it for him.

The very thought put him in a panic. He tried to swim for the surface, but it seemed that the harder he fought, the faster he was pulled under. Above him, the sunlight grew dimmer, until nothing but the ocean blue surrounded him. His vision blackened, his ears popped, and his lungs shriveled.

In what was certainly his last moment, his mind went to his family and the last time he had seen them.

 _There lay Elena, his beautiful wife. What had he done to deserve her? She treated him far better than she should have. After all the times he'd left her worried sick about where he was, or whether he'd made it to practice safely, she still stood by his side._

 _Jecht crouched down at the side of the bed and brushed the hair out of her face. She stirred and opened her eyes halfway. "Leaving already?" she whispered._

" _Sun's up," Jecht replied. "Gotta get a head-start on the day. I'll be back in time for dinner."_

 _She reached a hand for his face and stroked his cheek. "Be careful. And have a good time. I'll see you tonight. I'm making your favorite."_

 _"I can't wait," he said, pressing her hand against his face. He kissed her forehead, t_ _hen he climbed to his feet. Hiking his bag over his shoulder, he headed down the hall. He stopped at Tidus's cracked door and peeked in on his son, who lay shivering on his bed with his blankets in a heap on the floor after he had kicked them off in his sleep._

 _Jecht sighed and quietly walked in. He collected the blankets and lay them over Tidus, tucking him in like he often did when the kid wasn't awake to remember it. He stopped shivering and rolled over, surrendering once again to the bliss of sleep. Jecht ruffled his messy hair before turning to leave. He stopped at the door and looked at the lumps on the bed that were his son. "Be good," he said._

If only he'd known it would be the last time he'd seen them, he would've done or said more. Hell, if he'd known _this_ would happen, he never would've left in the first place.

And to think they would be waiting around at dinnertime for his return, only to find that he wouldn't be back. It made him sick to his stomach, and made him swim even harder.

But now it was too late. There was nothing he could do.

As he sank to the depths, losing all consciousness, one thought came to his mind: it was fittingly ironic that he would die at sea, the place he loved most in the world.

* * *

 **Stay tuned for next week! We'll be meeting some more familiar characters on Friday, July 3! Until then, I look forward to your lovely reviews! :)**


	3. Excommunicated

**Hi, everyone! Back on Friday, as promised. Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. It makes my little heart so happy to see you guys enjoying this story!**

 **But alas, I think it's time we focus on someone besides Jecht. Read on!**

* * *

"Are you sure you've thought this through, Auron?"

Auron stared out the window of the temple antechamber, watching the people moving up and down the Highbridge below. This was the life he was leaving behind. This was what he was giving up. It seemed ridiculous, irrational even, but the alternative was much worse.

Auron faced Grand Maester Mika and nodded. "Yes. I'm sure."

Mika sighed and took a seat. "You've been a faithful servant of Yevon since you were a boy. We took you in at thirteen after your family was killed by Sin. Do you remember that?"

"How could I forget?" Auron looked out the window again. "It wasn't so long ago."

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his parents' faces. They'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Sin had attacked. Somehow, as if by a miracle—or, as far as the temple and the priests were concerned, by the blessing of Yevon—Auron had survived. He'd gone to the only place he knew he could go: straight to the temple to become a monk.

But as it turned out, Maester Mika saw him more fit to become a warrior, a protector in the service of Yevon. He had faithfully and dutifully followed the creed of Yevon since he was a child—at least until now. He could no longer do it.

"This is your life, Auron," Mika reminded him. "For your sake, I beg you: don't give this up. You're so close to becoming General. Do not refuse the high priest's daughter."

"I cannot do that, Maester Mika," Auron said. "I didn't come to Bevelle so I could marry—I came to serve Yevon."

"And you can still serve Yevon within the bonds of marriage," Mika replied. "The union between the daughter of a high priest and a warrior monk will make Yevon that much stronger. It is strength and faith that will allow us to defeat Sin. The people of Spira need to see union within Yevon."

Auron looked away. "Then…someone else must take my place. I cannot lie to myself and marry someone I don't love."

"Marriage doesn't always require love. People marry for many reasons, some honorable and some dishonorable. This, Auron—this is honorable."

"I'm sorry," Auron said. "I cannot do it."

Mika sighed and stood up again. He approached Auron's side and peered out the window with him. "You have so much potential. I really wish you would reconsider."

"My mind is made up. I've thought long and hard about this."

Mika looked down, his eyes filled with sadness. "Then you know what must be done."

Auron absentmindedly rubbed his wrist. "Yes. I know."

"It cannot be undone. Once you leave here, your name will be disgraced throughout Yevon."

It stung to hear that, but Auron already knew to expect it. Leaving the clergy—leaving Yevon—was no small thing. He would be welcomed in the temples only as a civilian. He could never again wander the temple depths, could never again carry on the same way. Hell, he had no idea what he would do or where he would go. He just knew he couldn't marry someone he didn't love, let alone someone he didn't even know.

"I understand," Auron said. "I want you to know that this was not an easy choice for me. But in spite of this entire situation, I appreciate all you've done for me. Without you and Yevon, I would've been just another hopeless orphan. So…thank you."

Mika nodded. Auron knew he was upset, so he didn't expect even something as simple as "You're welcome" from Mika. "I'll need to have you escorted," Mika said.

"I know," Auron replied.

"Wait here while I call the guards."

Mika left Auron alone in the antechamber. The silence was unnerving. He was so deep in the temple, he couldn't even hear the Hymn of the Fayth. Going anywhere in Spira, one was guaranteed to hear it. _Not_ hearing it made him feel…off. Like something was wrong. He wanted to leave, but there was one more thing he had to do before he could.

Only minutes later, Mika returned with two armed guards. "Follow me, Auron," he said.

Auron hesitated. "You're coming, too?"

"Yes. I oversee all excommunications."

He could stand having two nameless guards watch him suffer, but not Maester Mika. Not the man who had taken him in to the temple in the first place. That was somehow worse than knowing Auron had abandoned Yevon.

Reluctantly, he followed Mika out the door and down the long, winding hall of the temple. The two guards stood closely by his side the entire time. It took them nearly ten minutes to reach the room Auron never thought he would see. At the end of various interconnected paths, they found themselves outside the Chamber of the Fallen. The name was so ominous, so damning. He wasn't fallen. Not by a long shot. Maybe according to the letter of the law, he had disgraced Yevon by refusing to marry, but _he_ didn't see that as a crime. It was a conviction.

Mika led Auron into the chamber where a single stone chair sat directly in the middle of the room. The room was much smaller than he imagined, and much emptier. In front of the chair stood a fireplace with flames lit inside of it. An iron stake sat at the side of the fireplace, with a third guard at the ready.

"Have a seat," Mika directed. Auron did as he was told. The guards sealed the door behind them and approached Auron, one on each side. They took his arms and strapped him down to the chair, making Auron's heart skip a beat. He knew this wasn't going to be pleasant, but he hadn't expected to be treated like a common thief.

The guard on his right removed the glove on his hand, exposing the smooth flesh of the inside of his wrist where the symbol of Yevon had been tattooed over ten years ago. Auron swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched the third guard plunge the iron stake into the dancing flames. He removed it a moment later and approached Auron. "I'm sorry," Mika said somewhere behind Auron. "I wish this didn't need to happen."

Auron clenched his fist and grit his teeth. "Just do it."

The guard on his left moved behind Auron and gagged him. He knew he would need it. The third guard came toward him with the red hot poker and held it just above his skin. Even inches away, Auron could feel the heat coming from the iron stake. His heart thundered in his chest.

Then came the pain. He usually had a high level of pain tolerance, especially considering what he'd gone through during his years of training and the fiends he'd faced in his travels. But _this_ —this was something else. As the guard pressed the hot iron against his skin, he thought his heart would stop beating. He screamed so hard into the gag, he wondered how he had any air left in his lungs to keep breathing.

The corners of his vision went black. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to do anything to make it stop. The only thing that kept him from passing out was knowing that once it was over, it was all over for good. He would be a free man. He came dangerously close to passing out several times, but his will prevented him from slipping.

At last, the guard removed the iron stake from his wrist. Auron slumped back in his chair, breathing hard through the gag. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his neck. The guard removed the gag from his mouth and unstrapped his wrist. Auron wavered in his chair, and would've toppled over if not for Mika's hand on his shoulder to steady him. "It's over, Auron," Mika said quietly.

Auron dared to look at his wrist. Where the symbol of Yevon had once been, there now was a patchy area of melted flesh. It was so ugly, so disgusting, that Auron almost lost his stomach completely.

He'd done it. He was now an excommunicated member of the Yevon clergy. Without Yevon, he was nobody.

"It's time to go," Mika said.

Auron gathered his remaining strength and rose to his feet. He emerged from the Chamber of the Fallen with Mika and the three guards, cradling his injured wrist into his body. He considered putting the glove back on to hide the branding, as the pain of embarrassment was much worse than the pain of the body. But no—he had made a choice, and he would have to live with it.

They stopped at the door just outside the main hall of the temple. Mike faced Auron but would not meet his eye. "This is where I leave you, Auron. I'm sorry it had to end this way."

 _I'm not_ , Auron thought. He wouldn't apologize for his choice—even if it meant complete disgrace. "Goodbye, Maester Mika."

With the last bit of dignity he had left, he headed through the doors and into the temple hall. All heads turned his way. He knew what they were thinking: here comes Auron, the defiler of Yevon. Auron, the traitor. Auron, the abandoner. He even had the burn on his wrist to prove it.

He kept his gaze straight ahead and walked with his head held high. He would give them nothing. As he took his final steps out of the temple, he didn't dare look back. He breathed in the fresh air as the doors to the temple sealed shut behind him.

Once outside the temple, Auron turned and looked up. Mika watched him from the window of the antechamber. Even though he was so far away, Auron could see the sadness in his eyes, the utter disappointment. He wished he could say he was disappointed in himself, too, but he wasn't. He'd chosen the lesser of two evils. He'd done what was right for himself. For once, he'd put his own wants and needs before Yevon.

The farther away from the temple he went, the lighter his heart felt. The pain in his wrist, however, wouldn't let him forget what he was leaving behind. He tried to think about anything else to distract himself from the agony.

He'd almost reached the Highbridge when he suddenly heard someone calling his name behind him. He turned around to find his friend, Wen Kinoc, coming his way. "Auron!" Kinoc called, catching up to him. Auron wasn't sure he'd ever seen Kinoc out of his uniform. He was a man of Yevon at heart—always had been, and always would be. "What in Spira is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Auron asked, although he knew the answer.

"Is it true? Are you leaving the clergy?"

Auron looked away. He exposed his burned wrist to Kinoc, who gasped at the sight of it. "Oh, Auron. Tell me it's not so."

"I'm afraid it's exactly as it looks."

"Where are your senses?" Kinoc demanded. "You were so close to moving up. Why would you give that up?"

"Because they wanted something from me that I could not give."

Kinoc shook his head. "Whatever it took, you should've done it. You could've been made General, Auron—and after that, maybe a maester."

Auron just shook his head. "You wouldn't understand, Kinoc."

"Who would understand better than me? We're brothers in Yevon."

"Be that as it may, you needn't worry about it. I'll be just fine."

"If you say so," Kinoc replied. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know. But I'll figure something out. Spira is a big place."

"That it is. Despite all this, I do hope you'll keep in touch. I like to think we are friends."

"I will," Auron replied. "We're bound to run into each other at some point. Where are they sending you now?"

"To Mushroom Rock Road in two days' time," Kinoc said. "They need someone to patrol that road to Djose Temple to stop the fiends attacking passing civilians and summoners."

"You'll do well there," Auron told him. "You've always been good at taking charge."

"Let's hope so. It could mean a promotion for me if this goes well."

"You deserve it, of all people."

"Thank you, Auron." He drew in a deep breath. "Well, I suppose this is it then."

"So it is. Goodbye, Kinoc."

"Goodbye, old friend. Take care."

Auron turned and finished the rest of his walk down the Highbridge, leaving Kinoc, the temple, and Mika behind.

* * *

Auron wanted to be angry with Mika, but he knew it wouldn't be right. He'd made the choice on his own.

He sat at the bar in Rin's Travel Agency just beyond Lake Macalania. It was the closest place to Bevelle that served alcohol—not that the distance mattered anyway. Since the clergy lived in the temple, and since he was no longer a member of the clergy, he was now technically homeless. He knew that if anyone spotted him in an Al Bhed establishment—especially right after his excommunication—they would have a field day with it.

But what did he care? They could talk all they wanted. Yevon was behind him now. He could do whatever he wanted, and go wherever he wanted. He would stay at Rin's overnight. Maybe the next day, he would have some sort of plan in mind for what he would do next. All he needed was a good night's rest.

The bartender, a young Al Bhed woman, replaced his empty beer mug with a full one. At the sight of Auron's poorly bandaged (and now bleeding) wrist, she winced. "That doesn't look so good. We've got some potions for sale that can clear that right up if you're interested."

Auron pulled his sleeve down over the bandage. "That's all right," he replied. Somehow, he felt like he deserved it, but that didn't mean he wanted to draw attention to it.

While Auron mulled over in his head where he would go from here, two men entered the travel agency and seated themselves on his right side. "I've heard he's passing through Macalania right now, looking for guardians," the first man said. "In fact, I heard he's going to stay _here_ tonight! If I was in better shape, I'd apply for the position myself."

The other man snorted. "It takes more than just being in shape to be a guardian. You know it's not a glamourous lifestyle, don't you? Few guardians ever return, and the ones that do just aren't the same."

"But the glory of knowing you defeated Sin," the first man replied. "I think it would outweigh everything else, don't you think?"

"I don't know what to think. I'm not a guardian, and I never will be one. All I know is that it takes a steel heart and stomach to do what those summoners and guardians do. I personally hope Summoner Braska completes his pilgrimage. With what he's done for the Al Bhed, it would only make me respect him that much more. Those people have been persecuted enough."

"But it's because he married an Al Bhed that all of Spira looks down on him," the first man said. "I've heard he's a respectable guy, but why go through the trouble to save a world that scorns you anyway?"

"Because that's what summoners do," the second man replied. "They give their lives for us. And with the way you're talking, I certainly hope Lord Braska would reject you outright if you even had the nerves to ask him for a position as his guardian."

"Hey, now! I could do it!"

"Sure you could."

"You want me to ask him?"

"I would bet good money to watch you ask him and get shot down."

Auron sighed and rose from the bar, leaving his beer behind. He couldn't listen to this rabble any longer. He needed rest. He dropped more than enough gil onto the bar and turned away, heading for his room. As soon as he reached his bed, his head hit the pillow.

But he couldn't sleep. There was too much on his mind, and the throbbing, burning pain in his wrist would not subside. He had a place to sleep tonight, but what about the next night? And the night after that?

In hindsight, he should've thought this through better. But what was there to think about? Either he married the high priest's daughter or he didn't. Sure, marriage would've led to the eventual promotion as General of the Army—and perhaps someday, a maester, just as Kinoc had said—but he didn't want to earn it through marrying a woman he'd never met. He wanted to earn it based on his own performance.

Wherever he went from here, he knew he would be fine. He was adaptable. He learned fast. He carried out his orders with absolute attention and precision. He took nothing lightly. He would start at the bottom again and slowly work his way up. Maybe he would even join the Crusaders. Hell, they were just as disgraced as he was. Why not? At least he had one prospect now, whereas five minutes ago, he had nothing.

He rolled over, making it a point to keep his arm sprawled out at his side so he wouldn't roll onto it in his sleep. He felt good about tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a new day, and with it would come new opportunities. He was sure of it.

* * *

 **And there he is. Auron in all his glory...or not.**

 **I'll be posting chapter 4 on Sunday, 7/5. Stay tuned, because we'll be meeting yet ANOTHER familiar face. In the meantime, I look forward to your reviews!**


	4. Job Offer

**Back again! Read on to meet another familiar face...**

* * *

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"

Auron shot up in his bed and scrambled to his feet. His faithful sword, Murasame, appeared in his hands in an instant.

It took him a moment to remember that he was not at the Bevelle temple but in Rin's Macalania Travel Agency. Stumbling through the halls half-awake, he almost got lost, but the screams and cries for help led him in the right direction.

He shoved his way through the front door of the travel agency to find hordes of fiends attacking the passers-by. Several people had already been injured or killed. Auron hadn't been quick enough.

He hiked up his sword and charged at the nearby snow wolf that had a mother and her child backed up against the wall of the building. With one smooth stroke, the wolf yelped and vanished into a cloud of pyreflies. The mother and child ran for cover while Auron turned and surveyed the scene before him. There must've been over a hundred fiends running loose. Where had they come from, and why were they all attacking at once?

Auron continued to cut through fiend after fiend, but more seemed to arrive in their place. He must've defeated over twenty enemies by the time he found himself too exhausted to go on. Fortunately, as a warrior monk, he had been trained to endure beyond his physical capacity. He couldn't go on, but he would. He ignored his body's protests for rest, the shocking pain in his wrist, and the lack of air in his lungs. He ignored all of it and pressed on, knowing what had to be done.

At some point, several Al Bhed arrived on some type of snow-transport machina, armed with guns and grenades. They were able to hold their own long enough, but many of them perished. The fiends closed in on the remaining defenders of the travel agency, overwhelming Auron and his comrades.

When they'd cut through the last of the fiends, there were only five of them left standing. Auron leaned against his sword for support and caught his breath. The Al Bhed took a moment to gather themselves and assess their damage and losses.

Auron, however, wasn't finished. When he looked up, he saw what looked like a flock of bats coming their way, soaring high through the sky. No, they weren't bats—they were something else entirely, but he didn't know what. They must've been what the fiends were running from.

He knew this fight was far from over. He pulled himself together and collected his sword. "Prepare yourselves," he told his Al Bhed comrades. "More are coming."

They looked up to see what he was talking about and froze in their tracks. " _Fryd ec ed?_ " one said.

" _Sin_!" another cried. " _Sin ec rana_!"

Sin? Could it be? The nearest shore was several miles away, but that didn't mean Sin couldn't reach them. If that was the case, they would need to get out of here. Unless, of course, Auron could draw the fiends away. He stood no chance against Sin or any Sinspawn, but he could at least distract the beast long enough for the civilians to flee.

Auron sheathed his sword and approached the Al Bhed, pointing at their snow speeder. "I need it."

" _Fryd?_ " the Al Bhed asked. " _Frana yna oui kuehk_?"

Auron didn't speak a lick of Al Bhed, but he was sure that whatever the man had said wasn't permission to take his machina—but it also wasn't refusal either. Auron mounted the speeder and the Al Bhed protested, shouting at him in his language. "I'm going out there," Auron said. "I need to find out what's happening. How do you start this thing?"

The Al Bhed man sighed, giving up. He leaned forward and fumbled with the controls on the machina, starting up the engine. Then, he waved Auron away. " _Kuut milg. Oui'na kuehk du haat ed._ "

"Thank you."

In an instant, he was off. He sped across the icy pond and down the narrow cavern, ignoring the stinging of the wind against his face. Overhead, more of the Sinscales soared toward Macalania. They would be no challenge, even for the most untrained swordsman. The real confrontation was with whatever Sinspawn had hatched those things and scared away the fiends in the first place. If it was Sin itself and not a Sinspawn, well…Auron was definitely doing something totally and utterly stupid. But he certainly couldn't sit by and watch.

Beyond the mountain up ahead, just before he reached the Macalania Temple, a giant black tentacle pierced the snowy bank to the right. Several small tentacles with glowing green orbs attached to their ends sprouted from the top of the large tentacle, waving back and forth. The orbs dropped from the small tentacles like apples falling from a tree. They burst open, and the Sinscale crawled its way to life, growing to their full height within a few seconds. One by one, they took flight, headed in the direction of the travel agency.

Auron abandoned the machina speeder and sprinted up the snow bank towards the Sinspawn. He drew Murasame and hacked and slashed, cutting the Sinspawn into confetti. It must've been fifty times his size, but that wouldn't stop him. By this point, the birthing Sinscales realized what was happening, and turned their attention to Auron instead of the flight they were meant to take. He'd gotten in quite a few damaging hits on the Sinspawn's body before the Sinscales began to overwhelm him. At once, twenty Sinscales were upon him, and he wasn't sure he could make it out this time.

 _At least I've slowed it down_ , he thought. He might die, but if he could save a few lives and buy the rest some time, it would be worth it. The thought of his approaching defeat and subsequent death slowed his movements. His sword suddenly felt heavier. His arms moved slower. His mind seemed to stop functioning altogether.

In his moment of weakness, a Sinscale leapt at him and knocked him flat on his back. His sword flew out of his hand, landing somewhere too far away. The Sinscale sprang forward to tear into him, but before it could, several purple orbs of energy annihilated it and the rest of its comrades.

Auron looked up to see what had caused his enemy's defeat. His mouth dropped open at the sight of the magnificent blue beast with red, purple, and gold wings and a spinning gold wheel on its back. It crossed its arms over its chest and stared forward at the Sinspawn, looking more than competent enough to take the thing all its own.

At its side stood a man in an elegant robe made of red and navy fabric petals. An intricate headpiece adorned his head, and he carried a gold staff in his right hand. Auron instantly recognized him: he was a summoner, and the beast at his side was an aeon. He looked Auron's way and smiled. "You look like you could use some help," he said. He waved the staff in Auron's direction, and Auron suddenly felt a hundred times better. Not only was the man a summoner, he was a mage, too, and a good one at that.

Auron quickly climbed to his feet and retrieved his sword, but the summoner lifted a hand. "No need, friend. You've done enough."

"I cannot stand by and let you fight alone," Auron replied.

"Please. I can take it from here."

The aeon looked to the summoner for guidance, and the summoner nodded. The beast sprang into the air, soared into a backflip, and landed on its feet, skidding to a halt. It pawed at the ground like a bull ready to charge. The wheel on its back began to spin so quickly that an electric current sparked around it, creating an energy beam which the beast aimed at the Sinspawn.

Once the attack was over, the Sinspawn shuddered and its tentacles drooped. The remaining green orbs extinguished like broken lamps, and the Sinspawn collapsed, completely defeated. Everything went quiet.

Auron turned toward the summoner and his aeon, at a total loss for words. The summoner approached the aeon and held his staff up. "Thank you, my friend," he said to the aeon. "You've served me well."

He waved the staff and the aeon sprang into the air. Its wings flapped, sending a cool breeze Auron's way. He shielded his eyes as the aeon disappeared high into the clouds, out of sight.

The summoner then approached Auron and took a look in the direction of their defeated opponent. "It seems we were just in time," he said.

"It seems _you_ were in time," Auron said. "You saved my life."

The summoner chuckled. "If you hadn't reached the Sinspawn first, who knows what would've happened in my absence? You helped just as much as I did. What is your name?"

Auron had met summoners before, and he had always felt unworthy in their presence. These were the men and women who sacrificed themselves to defeat Sin, to bring the Calm to Spira. He'd met quite a few haughty ones who took this sacred duty as a means to gaining special privileges, but this man seemed the exact opposite. Indeed, his calm nature made him more respectable than any snooty summoner he'd ever met. He owed this man his life. "My name is Auron," he replied.

"You wouldn't happen to be the same Auron who is from Bevelle, would you?"

'Unfortunately, I am."

"Why is that unfortunate?"

He couldn't tell him why. He couldn't explain his shame. A summoner—a person in complete service to Yevon—would laugh if he knew Auron's disgrace. "Never mind," he said. "I'm sorry to say this, but I don't know who you are."

"No need to apologize. I am Summoner Braska. The aeon you just saw is Bahamut."

"Both of you were impressive in battle. I owe you for saving my life."

Braska glanced at the fallen Sinspawn again. "Perhaps we can discuss your repayment now. Would you care to accompany me to the temple?"

* * *

Auron had been to the Macalania Temple only a few times. He was reluctant to accompany the summoner to any temple, being who he was, but he couldn't refuse the man who'd just saved him from certain death. He made sure to keep the glove over his bandaged wrist—even if it did hurt.

The summoner prayed for several minutes upon their arrival. Auron knew he should be praying, too, but he felt it would be a joke. After he had left Yevon, he didn't have much of a reason to pray anymore. Instead, he stepped outside for some air while the summoner finished his duties.

After about ten minutes, Auron returned inside just as Braska finished praying. Together they paced through the temple. "You asked how you could repay me for saving your life," Braska said. "I have an idea."

"Please, tell me."

"I am looking for a guardian. Someone I can rely on. Someone whose hands I can place my life into."

Auron slowed his walk. "You don't mean _me_ , do you?"

Braska smiled. "You fought well back there. I can see that you are not only physically suited for the job, but mentally and emotionally as well. Very few people would charge head-on at a Sinspawn on their own, knowing their small chances for survival."

"I've been trained to act first and think later," Auron replied. "It just came naturally."

"Yes. You obviously know what you're doing."

Auron shook his head. "But that doesn't mean I could become a guardian. With all due respect, Lord Braska, I hardly think I'm qualified for such a position. I don't know that I am as trustworthy as you think me to be."

"Why is that?" he asked.

"You deserve a respectable guardian. Not someone…" He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Not someone who abandoned Yevon?" Braska finished.

Auron faced him. "You…know?"

Braska chuckled. "Of course I know. Word gets around fast—especially when it has to do with people in service of Yevon."

"Then you should know exactly why I am not equipped to handle the job."

He sighed. "Walk with me, won't you?"

Together, they left the temple and strolled through the snow into the chilly morning. "Auron, do you know anything about me? Anything at all?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You must think highly of me, don't you?"

"Of course, my lord. You're a summoner, after all."

"Most people don't share the same respect," Braska said. "Most of them look down on me. Do you know why?"

"I can't imagine."

"My wife was an Al Bhed woman."

Auron immediately looked up at him. Braska caught the surprise in his eyes and chuckled. "Yes, it's true. Love knows no boundaries."

"I had no idea."

"As you know, Yevon doesn't look kindly upon the Al Bhed, and it especially doesn't look kindly upon a summoner wedding an Al Bhed. They would never deter me from my pilgrimage—after all, if someone wants to face Sin, why should anyone stop him?—but they don't think I will make it past the front door."

"And how does your wife feel about you leaving to fight Sin?" Auron asked.

Braska was quiet for a moment. "She passed away three years ago at sea, when Sin struck the ship she was aboard. That was when I decided I would become a summoner. That pain that I suffered after losing her, that agony—I wanted to vanquish it completely, for all of Spira. Now, I am finally able to begin my pilgrimage. But I need a guardian. The path to Zanarkand is wrought with perils and fiends that even a summoner cannot face alone."

Auron shook his head. "But why me?"

"Because we are alike," Braska replied. "I am disgraced by Yevon just as you are. Why not be disgraced together and go after the biggest catch of them all? Why not show Spira what we are truly capable of?"

Auron looked up at two birds flying high across the sky. "You hardly know me. Don't you think you should seek a guardian whom you know you can trust, without a doubt?"

"With all due respect, Auron, I've made my decision. It's you."

Auron didn't know what to say. Why should a summoner, the very person held in highest regard throughout Spira alongside the maesters, be interested in _him_? Why would Braska trust him? All of Spira should be scorning him, especially the summoners, yet Braska wanted Auron to protect his life. It seemed too good to be true.

Of course, there was the other caveat: being a summoner's guardian made him respectable, sure, but as Braska said, the road to Zanarkand is wrought with dangers even Auron might not be able to face. Those Al Bhed in the travel agency the night before were right—one needed a steel heart to become a guardian.

"I don't want you to feel like you must go through with this," Braska said. "But I do want you to consider it."

"But I owe you my life. Whatever you ask, I'll do it."

Braska waved a hand. "I don't hold onto life debts, Auron. I cannot ask you to risk your own life on me simply because I saved yours. What I'm asking of you is nothing small, I know. That's why I want you to take time to think it over."

"I have one more question," Auron said. "Have you considered anyone else?"

Braska smiled. "No. I haven't. The moment I heard about your excommunication, I knew I must find you and offer you the position. Your name carries weight, you know. Tales of your expeditions throughout Spira have spread even beyond Bevelle. Yevon may have rejected you, Auron, but I haven't."

He turned and headed for the temple once more. "I leave to begin my pilgrimage in two days, with or without you. If you're interested, you know how to find me. If I don't hear from you, I'll know you've made your choice. Either way, it was a pleasure to meet you."

And with that, he left Auron standing out in the snow.

* * *

 **Next time, we'll check back in on Jecht and see what trouble he's getting himself into now.**

 **I'll see you guys at chapter 5 on Thursday, 7/9! :)**


	5. Imprisoned

**It's Thursday, which means it's time for chapter 5! Read on to see what trouble Jecht is finding for himself...**

 **Reibunriinta: Shh, that sphere comes later. ;)**

* * *

Jecht awakened face-down in the water. He threw his head back, gasping for air as his vision returned to normal and he came back to full consciousness.

A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind all at once. Where was he? What had happened? What was that thing in the water? Were the others alive?

His heart beat so fast, he thought it might burst right out of his chest. He needed to calm himself down, to pull himself together. He took a good look around and forced himself to draw in deep, even breaths.

Behind him was the endless sea, and before him was a shore. It must've been only a hundred feet away. Whatever had happened to him, at least he was close to land. Beyond the trees at the edge of the shore, he could see a tall city stretching high into the sky. It didn't look familiar by any means, but if he could reach it, someone could help him get back home.

 _Move it,_ he told himself. _It's the only way you'll get anywhere._ Even though he hadn't completely pulled himself together yet, he forced his body to swim for the shore. Along the way, he tried to recall what had happened. Last he remembered, he had been aboard a ship, out at sea for a day of training. Some kind of giant beast had emerged from the water seemingly out of nowhere, tearing the ship to shreds. He must've been swept under and passed out. He thought for sure he was going to die, but somehow, he was lucky enough to reach the shore— _alive._

He climbed onto the sand, feeling much weaker than he ever remembered being in his life. How long had he been afloat at sea? How long had he been unconscious? By the way his stomach grumbled, it must've been days, but the shipwreck seemed like it was just minutes ago.

He turned around and gazed out at the ocean, hoping to find any trace of the sea or other survivors, but there was nothing. It was as if the entire excursion had been a dream and he had simple awoken in the sea after a night of sleepwalking. He had to wonder if any of it had actually happened.

Like the sea, the shore was completely empty. Jecht dragged himself to his feet and stumbled across the beach, heading for the trees ahead. He pushed his way through the greenery as the sound of voices met his ears. A little farther past the trees, he found a row of small cottages. Several people were out and about, hauling things and chatting with each other. They all wore clothes he'd never seen before—fancy robes, headpieces, long dresses, and tunics. He thought he'd certainly been taken to another dimension, or to another world.

He drew in a deep breath and approached the woman gathering herbs from her garden. At the sight of him, she gasped and took a step back. "Who are you?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"You don't know who I am?" Jecht demanded. To his surprise, his voice was terribly hoarse, another sign of how long he'd been afloat at sea.

She shook her head and clutched the basket of herbs closer to her for protection. "N-No, I'm afraid not. Should I?"

"Yeah, you should. I'm the great Jecht, the best blitzer around."

He waited for her to admit it had simply slipped her mind, but his words had no effect on her. She shook her head again. "I'm sorry, sir. I have no idea who you are."

Jecht waved his hand. "Ah, never mind. Listen, I need some help. I was at sea when something attacked our ship. I just washed up at shore and have no idea where I am."

"What do you mean by 'something'?" she asked.

"I can't describe it. It was some kind of huge creature that came up underwater. It attacked our ship and dragged us down with it. I'm the only survivor, it looks like."

"Sin?" the woman breathed. "Was it Sin?"

"Uh…I don't know."

"When was this?"

"I think yesterday…or a few days ago. I can't be sure. Can you just tell me where I am?"

"If Sin is near, we need to leave," she said.

"Don't go anywhere just yet," Jecht said. "I need your help first. _Where_ am I?"

"You're in Bevelle. Don't you recognize the temple?" She pointed to the tallest of the buildings in the distance.

Jecht rubbed the back of his neck. "Er…no. I don't. I don't even know what Bevelle is."

Her eyes widened again. "Sin's toxin must've gotten to you. But it's all right—we'll help you. Where are you from? Besaid? Kilika?"

"Zanarkand," Jecht replied.

The woman practically jumped. She dropped her basket to the ground and took another step back. "What do you mean, you're from Zanarkand?"

"I mean I live there. What else could I possibly mean?"

Suddenly, all traces of fear disappeared, replaced with complete anger. "Are you trying to make a joke, mister?" she demanded.

"No, I'm not. What the heck are you talking about?"

"Because if you are, it's not funny."

"I'm not making any jokes. I just need to find my way home. You said you would help, so help!"

The woman turned away and headed for the nearest cottage, leaving Jecht standing there frustrated. _So much for that,_ he thought. If he wanted answers, he would have to go to the top dogs. _Somebody_ knew what was going on. Someone would know how to help him. And hopefully, someone would recognize him. If he found someone who recognized him, he could get home in a flash.

As soon as he started to leave, the woman returned from the cottage with a man at her side. "He says he's from Zanarkand," she told the man. "He swears it's not a joke. What do you make of it?"

The man took a step closer to Jecht, inspecting him. "You said you saw Sin?" he asked.

"I don't know what a Sin is," Jecht answered. "But I do know you should get out of my personal space, buddy."

The man took a step back and looked at the woman. "You're right. It must be the toxin. He should get to the temple straight away. The priests can cure him."

The woman had gone from frightened, to angry, and now to sympathetic. She swept her hands forward and cupped them in front of her, bowing. "Praise be to Yevon that you're still alive," she muttered. "Few live to see Sin and return to tell their stories."

"Um…right," Jecht said. "Now what's this about a temple? Can someone there help me?"

"They most certainly can," the woman said. "I'll take you there. Come with me. It's only a short walk."

He and the woman set forth along the nearby path. Within five minutes, they arrived at the temple. Colorful walls and pillars stretched high above, and decorative patterns adorned the ground beneath their feet. Men and women in similar robes and tunics walked up and down the Highbridge, more robotic than human. Everyone in this Bevelle place seemed to be the same way.

The woman stopped outside the tall double doors of the temple. "Go inside," she said. "Tell them what's happened. The priests will pray a blessing over you and dispel Sin's toxin. You'll be as good as new once they're done."

"Thanks," Jecht said, although she might as well have spoken a foreign language. Sin? Toxin? Priests? Where exactly had he found himself?

The two bald monks stationed outside the temple opened the temple doors for Jecht as he approached. They bowed as he entered, something which he could get used to. This place wasn't totally bad so far.

Inside, the temple was nearly dark except for the help of the lit torches. Several people sat crouched at small pedestals and tall statues lining the walls of the temple. Some bowed while others made that same gesture the woman had—which struck Jecht as weird, since that was the blitzball sign for victory. Why would they be doing that in a temple?

Two doors on the left and right sides of the temple were secured by armed guards, which Jecht thought to be strange in a temple. A large staircase in the center of the room led up to a single door that was more intricate and decorated than any other door in the temple. It must've led to someplace special.

"Can I get some help around here?" Jecht muttered, perhaps a bit too loudly. The men and women praying throughout the temple stopped what they were doing and looked in his direction. His disruption caused a bald monk to come his way, looking rather annoyed. "Yes, sir?" he said, his voice strained. "May I help you?"

"Yeah. Where am I?"

He frowned. "Why, you're in the Bevelle Temple."

"I got that. Just what in the heck is Bevelle? Where in the world am I?"

The monk glanced over his shoulder in utter confusion, as if the answer stood just behind him. "I'm sorry, sir, but are you…intoxicated?"

"What? No! I'm lost and I need help!"

"Lost, you say?"

"Yeah," Jecht replied. "Something called Sin apparently destroyed my ship and pulled me down with it. I woke up at shore just a few minutes ago and have no idea where the heck I am."

At the mention of Sin, all heads turned his way once more, accompanied by gasps and whispers of total shock. Most of the people sprang to their feet and performed the blitzball sign for victory, muttering "Praise be to Yevon" just as the woman had.

"You were close to Sin?" the monk asked. "And you survived?"

"Apparently so. Now can you help me or not? I need to get back home—to Zanarkand."

If Jecht could win an award for how many times he'd startled people in the past hour, he'd probably hold the world record. At the mention of Zanarkand, everyone began to mutter among themselves. The temple no longer seemed like a quiet place for worship.

"Zanarkand?" the monk demanded. "Are you making a joke?"

Jecht sighed. "No, for the hundredth time. I'm just trying to find my way out of here. Can you help me or not?"

"I cannot help you if you refuse to cooperate. Now tell me where you're from, and we'll see to it that you are taken home."

"I just told you. I'm from Zanarkand."

The monk became angry. "Either you're trying to be funny, or you _are_ intoxicated. Which is it?"

Jecht took a look around at the other people. They were all watching the scene like a fight was about to break out. Honestly, Jecht wouldn't mind. He needed to release some steam at this point, and would've loved to hit the guy in the nose. "It's neither," he said. "You asked where I'm from and I answered. If you don't like it, then you can stick it where the sun don't shine!"

The monk gasped and drew back as if Jecht had just insulted his mother. "Guards!" he cried. "Take this man to the temple prison!"

The two guards stationed at the east and west doors appeared immediately, approaching Jecht with their guns aimed for his chest. Jecht took a step back and raised his hands. "Whoa, now. There's no need for all this."

"Arrest him," the monk ordered. "Hold him on charges of threat, public intoxication, and blasphemy."

"Blasphemy? What in the hell do you mean?"

The monk pointed his fat, pudgy finger at Jecht. "You have some nerve showing up in our temple and cursing the holy name of Zanarkand! We will not stand for it!"

The guards took a step forward, but Jecht shoved them away. "Get your hands off me!"

This time, they used more force. One smacked him in the stomach with the butt of his gun, forcing Jecht to keel over. He clutched his stomach and dropped to his knees while the second guard smacked him across the back, sending him sprawling flat on to his stomach. He saw stars for a split second.

A moment later, the guards dragged him to his feet. Once he realized what was happening, he snapped to attention and began to thrash and protest. "You can't do this to me! I'm the great Jecht! Don't you know who I am?"

Not a single person listened. The guards didn't even hesitate. They dragged him through the right door, down a long, dark hallway, and to a large stone door at the end. They pushed their way through the door, entering a cold, musty, damp dungeon. There were five prison cells, but none of them were occupied.

The guards threw him into the closest cell and rolled the gate shut. Jecht threw himself at the bars as soon as he regained his footing. "Hey! You can't leave me in here! I have rights, you know!"

The guards just shook their heads and headed for the door.

"I have a family! I have a wife and a kid! They need me! You'd better let me out of here or there will be hell to pay! Do you hear me?"

The only response he got was the slamming of the door as the guards left.

Even though he was alone, he kept going. "Sin!" he cried. "It was Sin! The, uh…the toxin! Yeah, the toxin! It got to me! I need the priests to cure me!"

If he thought groveling would work, it didn't. The prison remained quiet. He slumped against the brick wall and dropped to the floor. He pulled his legs to his chest and dropped his head, thinking. He needed to get out, but how? What if the guards never came back for him? What if they left him there to die? What if they planned to have him executed?

Jecht imagined his wife walking back and forth through the house, worried sick. She always worried. He was gone so much, it was almost a necessity for her to worry. He'd promised he wouldn't do that to her again, and he'd lied—even if this _was_ out of his control.

And what about his kid? Was Tidus even thinking of him? Was he wondering what happened to his father? Was he worried? Jecht didn't know how long he'd been gone, but the longer he was stuck in this prison cell, the longer he'd be away from his family.

The door to the prison opened with a clank, and Jecht sprang to his feet once more. Two guards and one who looked a bit more official came in and stopped outside his cell. "What is your name?" the lead guard asked.

Jecht clutched the bars and looked the man in the eye. "Jecht," he said. "And who are you?"

"I am General Kinoc. I oversee the disposal of all potential threats to Bevelle—which right now is you."

Jecht snorted. "Threat? I'm not a threat. Not yet anyway. Not if you get me out of here and back on a boat to Zanarkand so I can get to my family."

"You keep saying you're from Zanarkand," Kinoc said. "Why is this?"

"Like I told all your buddies," Jecht grumbled, "that _is_ where I'm from. Why does it get everyone so riled up?"

"You seem to have genuinely forgotten, so I'll humor you for just a moment," Kinoc said. "It's because Zanarkand, as you well know, is a holy land, and has been in ruins for a thousand years. Claiming to be from such a sacred land is insulting, blasphemous, and completely stupid."

Obviously, these people weren't going to believe that he was from Zanarkand. Apparently, they believed it was a holy place—whatever that meant. If Jecht played along with them, he might be able to get himself out of jail. He just needed to stop being so confrontational, just like Sonnie said. Easier said than done, but he would have to try.

Jecht pressed his head against the bars and sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so belligerent. It's just…the toxin got to me. I don't know who I am anymore."

"The toxin?" Kinoc asked.

"Yeah. Sin destroyed my ship and I washed ashore. I don't remember much else."

"But you remember your wife and child," Kinoc said, a bit too suspiciously.

"Look, man. I remember what I remember. Some of it's foggy, some of it's not. And you're telling me that some of it is completely made up. I was attacked by Sin—that much I know is true. You tell me the rest."

Kinoc sighed. "Regardless of whether or not your stories about Sin are true, I think it best to keep you here for now. You're less of a danger to everyone and yourself."

"What?" Jecht demanded. "Didn't you hear me? I have a wife and son to get back to!"

"In Zanarkand, I know," Kinoc snorted.

"Why don't you come in here and say that again?" Being a brownnoser wasn't working, so he'd go back to his old ways.

"That behavior is precisely why I'm keeping you here."

"For how long?"

"Until I've decided you're clean."

"Clean?" Jecht cried. "I'm as clean as a whistle! I haven't had a drink in two days!"

"You can't expect me to believe that," Kinoc said. "Why don't you sleep it off for now? We'll check on you again tomorrow and go from there."

"I was told that if I came here, the priests would cure me."

"And they would, if you were telling the truth. I don't know which story to believe: that you're a man from Zanarkand, that you're a drunk, or that you were exposed to Sin's toxin. Until I figure it out, you can stay here. Good afternoon, Jecht."

He and the other two accompanying guards turned and left Jecht alone for the second time.

Jecht punched the wall as hard as he could. As angry as he was, he didn't even notice the pain. This Bevelle place was getting on his last nerves. Once he was out, he would find the monk who'd had him arrested and personally see to it that the fat man got his dues. And as for General Kinoc, well…he'd deal with him, too. He'd deal with anyone who got in the way of him and Zanarkand.

But until then, all he could do was wait. With a defeated sigh, he dropped to the ground once more and lay on his back on the cold cement, staring up at the ceiling. That Kinoc guy had said he'd be kept for at least a day— _at least_ a day. That could actually mean anywhere between one day and ten years. He needed to reach Elena somehow, to tell her what had happened. He didn't want her worrying. If she knew that the ship had been destroyed, she'd certainly think he'd gone down with it. He couldn't have that thought weighing on her mind.

He would wait one day. If they didn't let him out by then, he'd take the entire temple down with him on his way out.

* * *

 **It seems Jecht has found himself in a bit of a pickle!**

 **So as far as the posting schedule goes, I will be out of the country for the next two weeks. I probably won't be able to post until I come back, but if I am able to post before then, you can find the next chapter on Friday 7/17. If not, I'll be posting on Sunday 7/26 when I come back home.**

 **Either way, see you all at chapter 6!**


	6. Legendary Guardians

**Hello all! Today I'm updating from Krakow, Poland! It's a beautiful country here and I'm loving Europe in general.**

 **As promised, I'm back with chapter 6. Read on to see things finally come together.**

* * *

Auron thought he had made up his mind by the time he and Braska parted ways in Macalania, but after sleeping on Braska's offer for a night, he found the next morning that it was just the opposite.

He awakened in his room at Rin's Travel Agency and found Braska to be the first thing on his mind. The man had seemed so genuine about his offer, so sincere, so set on making Auron his guardian. The entire situation seemed unbelievable and unlikely. Only two days ago, he'd been a member of the Yevon clergy, so close to becoming the General of the Army. An hour later, he'd been excommunicated, and the morning after that, he'd fought a Sinspawn and met Summoner Braska— _and_ had received a job offer. Everything was happening so fast, he didn't know what to make of it.

He had to admit that it was nice to wake up with nothing to do and nowhere to go. He hadn't had a day like that since before his parents were killed by Sin, since he was a child himself. Every waking moment since then had been devoted to Yevon. Now, he was his own man.

While it did feel great, it also felt a little unfulfilling. How would he spend his day if he had no list of duties to accomplish? He needed something to apply himself to. So, since Braska's offer refused to leave his mind even for a moment, he thought he would go down to the temple and seek counsel. It seemed silly to even set foot in a temple at this point, but he didn't know where else to go.

Auron pulled himself together, had a quick breakfast, and set off for the Macalania Temple once more. Without the machina (he couldn't deny that they were helpful, even if they were supposedly sacrilegious), it took him almost an hour on foot to reach the temple. He half-expected to find Braska there, waiting for him, but it was not so. The usual temple attendants, monks, and guards wandered about, assisting the worshippers and making sure everything ran smoothly.

Auron knelt down before one of the statues of the great High Summoners of the past. He closed his eyes and _tried_ to pray, but it didn't work. Any prayer he offered now would only be empty and shallow. He didn't believe in Yevon anymore, so why _should_ he pray?

"Auron?" a voice behind him asked. He turned around, still expecting to find Braska waiting for him, but it was only his old friend, Rinall. Auron rose to his feet and offered the gesture of prayer to Rinall, who did the same. "It's good to see you, Rinall," Auron said.

"Same to you. I hope you won't take this the wrong way, but I certainly didn't expect to see you, of all people, in a temple after what happened."

"No offense taken," Auron said. "Truthfully, I don't know what I'm doing here."

"You do seem a little lost."

"Hm. Perhaps."

"Care to share what's on your mind?"

 _Not really_ , Auron thought, but he had come here for counsel, and he certainly wasn't getting anything from those stone statues. He'd known Rinall since he was a boy, and while they weren't particularly close, Rinall had always been a kind person. He was perhaps the least judgmental man Auron had ever met in Yevon. He was tolerant of Al Bhed, and did not look down on those who didn't believe in Yevon.

"I've received a job offer," Auron replied. "I don't know if I should take it."

"What's holding you back?" Rinall asked.

"I don't know that I'm suited for the position."

"If you were offered the job, then whoever is hiring must think you to be competent enough."

"I fear he overestimates me," Auron replied.

Rinall chuckled. "Perhaps you're being too hard on yourself."

"That may be true," Auron said, "but this, of all things, shouldn't be taken lightly."

"I've never known you to take _anything_ lightly, Auron. While it bewilders me that you would leave Yevon after all these years, knowing you, it must've been for a good reason. It's all right to give yourself a pat on the back once in a while."

"I don't care about the glory. I care about doing what's right."

"If I may ask," Rinall said, "what exactly is this job offer?"

Auron looked at him. "Summoner Braska has requested that I be his guardian."

He thought Rinall would be shocked, but he only nodded. "I wondered what the two of you were doing in here together yesterday. When does he leave for his pilgrimage?"

"Tomorrow," Auron said. "He wanted me to think it over, which is all I've been doing since we parted ways."

"And what are you thinking?"

"I think…I think it would be a wasted opportunity if I refused. But I don't know that I have what it takes to become his guardian. I don't know that I could trust myself with his life."

"But he obviously trusts you."

"He doesn't know me."

"He knows you well enough to place his life in your hands," Rinall said. "Doesn't that convince you?"

Auron looked away, turning his attention to the statue at his side. "There's more to it than that."

"You left Yevon for better opportunities, didn't you?" Rinall persisted. "Isn't this a better opportunity?"

"It is," Auron nodded, "but it's not what I expected."

"You can't expect much from life. Things happen how they will, and you go along with them or you fight the current. What else will you do if you don't become Lord Braska's guardian?"

"I haven't thought much about it," Auron replied.

"I do not know Lord Braska well, but in the past few times I've spoken with him, I've learned that he is a fine summoner and a wonderful person. You should be honored that he offered the position to you. Summoners don't choose just anyone to protect their lives."

Perhaps that was what Auron needed to hear. Rinall was right—summoners _didn't_ choose just anyone. The pilgrimage to Zanarkand, to defeat Sin, was no joke. They needed guardians they could trust without hesitation. Braska must've thought of Auron this way. Auron knew he wouldn't come across a better opportunity than this.

Rinall smiled. "It seems you've made up your mind, old friend. I'll leave you to yourself, then. It was good seeing you."

"Thank you, Rinall," Auron said. "It was good seeing you as well."

"And just so you know," Rinall added, turning away, "I think you'd make a perfectly fine guardian."

It was funny how such a simple and quick talk with an old friend could change Auron's mind. Although he feared the future and what he expected of it, Auron knew that this path would be right for him. If he had to guard a summoner, he would want it to be Braska.

* * *

Feeling much more sure of himself, Auron left Macalania and headed for Bevelle, arriving in record time. Braska had told Auron he would know where to find him. The only place Auron could think to find the summoner was the Bevelle temple. He'd likely spend his last few hours in Bevelle by praying, asking Yevon for a safe journey.

Auron's chest tightened as he pushed the doors open to the Bevelle temple. Many turned their heads his way and began whispering. Some just stared. He was half-tempted to walk out right then and there, but he couldn't risk missing Braska. He would just have to suck it up.

He pulled himself together, lifted his head, and marched forward. There were several people in the temple, but it was easy to spot Braska. He was the only one dressed differently than the rest. He sat at the foot of a pedestal with his head bowed. Auron stood at a respectful distance behind him, waiting.

"So you found me," Braska said without turning around.

Auron was a bit surprised that Braska knew he was there. "Yes, my lord."

"Does this mean you've made up your mind?"

"It does," Auron replied. "I…I wish to join you on your pilgrimage."

Braska stood up and faced Auron with a smile. "I'm glad to hear that. I truly am."

"I hope I'm not too late," Auron said.

"Of course not. We will leave tomorrow morning. Until then, we have just enough time to prepare for our departure."

"Can I do anything for you now?" Auron asked. He wasn't sure what he was required to do as a guardian besides…well, guarding the summoner.

"Yes, actually," Braska replied. "You can accompany me to the Bevelle prison."

"The prison?" Auron said. "What's down there?"

"Walk with me and I'll explain."

Together they made their way through the right hallway of the temple, past the guards and the curious glances of those watching them leave. "Don't worry," Braska said. "They're more interested in me than you."

Auron glanced at him and caught a grin. He nodded. "Thank you, my lord."

"You shouldn't care what they think of you, Auron," Braska replied. "You're not of the clergy anymore. You're a guardian now, and that's all that matters."

"Yes, Lord Braska."

"As for what we're doing here," Braska went on, "there is someone I would like to meet."

"In a prison?" Auron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. He washed ashore yesterday after Sin destroyed his ship."

"So they imprisoned him?"

"Not because of that," Braska said, shaking his head. "Because he claimed to be from Zanarkand."

Auron couldn't help laughing. "That's ridiculous. Who would dare claim such a thing in the temple of Bevelle? He must've been drunk—or poisoned with Sin's toxin."

"That's what the temple guards thought, too," Braska replied, "but none of his stories added up, so to be safe, they locked him away for the time being."

"And what are _we_ doing down here, besides meeting him?" Auron asked. He sensed there was more that Braska wanted to do than just introduce himself to the lunatic.

They stopped outside the door leading to the temple prison, which was secured by two guards. Braska smiled. "I'd like to offer him a job."

Auron's breath caught in his throat. A _job_? As a guardian? Was Braska insane? He'd never met this man, had only heard a few words about him, and wanted him to protect Braska's life. If he would take up a man he didn't know as a guardian—a man who had insulted Yevon and the holy land of Zanarkand—what did that say about Auron himself? What if Braska wasn't as particular about his guardians as Rinall had suggested? A summoner couldn't afford to make such a mistake.

Before he could protest, Braska was already through the door. Inside the prison, another two guards stood watch. Braska approached the only occupied prison cell, where a man lay on the ground, dressed in clothes unlike anything Auron had ever seen.

The man lifted his head just enough to look up at Braska. "Who are you?" he growled.

"You are the one they call Jecht," Braska said, "the man from Zanarkand, are you not?"

"What of it?" the prisoner snapped.

Auron flushed with anger. How dare this man speak to a summoner that way? He approached Braska's side and glared at the man behind the bars. "Watch your tongue, knave!"

Braska glanced at him, as if asking him to relax. From what Auron had gathered of Braska so far, he was not confrontational by any means. That was his charm. "Ah," Braska said, "my apologies. I am Braska, a summoner. I've come to take you from this place."

Auron looked at him, wishing Braska would meet his eye. Wishing he would explain himself. But as a summoner, he didn't have to. Auron had signed on for the job, and would follow his orders as expected—even if he thought Braska was being a little hasty in this decision. After all, he'd already come to the prison with his mind made up. He'd planned to do this before he'd even known Auron would accept his offer.

Jecht stood up and approached the bars, leaning forward. The man had scars all over his face, chest, and arms. Auron wasn't sure he wanted to know how he'd gotten such marks—probably from bar fights and scraps over women. He definitely looked like _that_ kind of guy. "Sounds sweet," Jecht said. "What's the catch?"

Braska chuckled. "That easy to see, was it? I soon leave on a pilgrimage—to Zanarkand."

Jecht's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"I would like you to join us. It will be a dangerous trip, yet…if we do reach Zanarkand, my prayers will be answered, and you will be able to go home—we think. What say you?"

Almost before Braska had finished speaking, Jecht gave his word. "Great! Let's go!"

Braska tilted his head, studying the prisoner. "Hm. So quick?"

"Anything to get outta here."

Braska smiled. "Then it's settled."

Auron couldn't hold back any longer. "But I must protest! This _drunkard_ , a guardian?"

"Hey!" Jecht cried. "You wanna step in here and say that?"

"What does it matter?" Braska asked, turning to Auron. "No one truly believes that I, a fallen summoner wed to an Al Bhed, could possibly defeat Sin. This is what they say. No one expects us to succeed."

Auron immediately felt bad for questioning him. "Braska, sir…"

Braska, however, took no offense. He chuckled again. "Let's show them they're wrong. A fallen summoner, a man from Zanarkand, and a warrior monk doomed to obscurity for refusing the hand of the priest's daughter. What delightful irony it would be if we defeated Sin."

"Stop gabbin' and get me outta here!" Jecht interrupted.

Auron shot him a warning glare while Braska turned to the guards. "I was told General Kinoc would hand down the orders to have him released to my custody," he said. "I will take full responsibility for him."

 _General Kinoc?_ Auron thought. Did that mean the job that had been meant for him went to Kinoc instead?

One of the guards nodded. "Yes, the arrangements have been made."

The two guards approached the jail cell and unlocked it, freeing the grinning deviant. Auron already didn't like him, and didn't think that would change. He did, however, have to work with him, and they were mutually responsible for protecting the summoner's life. He only hoped this Jecht would follow orders and hold up his end of the bargain. If he even tried to abandon Braska, Auron would hunt him down and make him pay for it. He, like Auron, owed Braska his life.

Jecht emerged from the cell, stretching and popping his knuckles. "Aaahh," he breathed. "Free at last."

"Now, Jecht," Braska said. "I am in your hands until we reach Zanarkand."

Jecht faced him and chuckled in a way that made Auron even more suspicious of him. "Right, right," he said. "So what's a summer-ner anyway?"

"I'll explain everything along the way," Braska replied. "I'll tell you all about Spira and summoners, so long as you promise to tell me all about your Zanarkand."

Jecht raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you saying you believe me?"

"I know that some things are beyond our understanding," Braska replied. "I believe your Zanarkand is one of those things."

Jecht studied him through narrowed eyes. "Hm. You're the first person I've met in this place so far who hasn't tried to strangle me at the mention of Zanarkand."

"Well, I don't think you would make it up just for amusement's sake," Braska said.

"There could be other explanations," Auron said. "How much did you have to drink when you supposedly washed up on shore?"

"Auron," Braska warned.

"I haven't had a drink in three days now, buddy," Jecht shot back. "And I could certainly use one. So either step off or show me what you've got."

Auron shook his head. "Lord Braska, I don't think this is a good idea."

Braska did not reply. Instead he turned and headed for the door. "Let's go," he said over his shoulder. "Seeing as how neither of you has a place to stay, you can spend the evening in my home. We'll leave before dawn."

Jecht gave Auron a triumphant grin as he brushed past the guards, following after Braska. Auron didn't feel right about this at all. Jecht was hardly trustworthy. What if he tried to rob Braska blind in the middle of the night, then take off without a peep? Just because he said he had nowhere to go didn't mean it was true. Auron would keep a close eye on the man and make sure he didn't do anything stupid. For all they knew, he was an escaped convict, and Braska had just welcomed him into his home.

But what struck Auron as most odd about the entire situation was the way Braska seemed to genuinely believe that this man had come from Zanarkand—obviously not the Zanarkand they knew in Spira, but perhaps a different Zanarkand altogether. Braska, of all people, shouldn't have fed into such foolishness, such blasphemy, yet he seemed to trust Jecht.

Auron thought Braska either had a great eye for good character in people, or really bad judgment when it came to who to trust.

* * *

 **And there it is. The famous rescue sphere. The threads are finally weaving together.**

 **All right everyone! I'll see you on Sunday, 7/26! We'll meet another favorite in chapter 7. Until then, R &R please!**


	7. The Last Night

**Back on Sunday, as promised! I'm back home in the US now. I loved Europe but I was getting homesick. At least now the posting schedule will be regular once more. :)**

* * *

The group did not reach Braska's home until just before sunset. They had spent most of the day wandering through Bevelle, accompanying Braska while he bid his farewells to close friends and temple attendants. Both Jecht and Auron earned their fair share of dirty looks, but after about the fifth time, they ignored it.

Jecht had expected Braska's home to be a grand, seaside manor. Instead, it was modest and small, neat and tidy. There were no servants or attendants either. His home was fairly simple, yet welcoming at the same time. "Feel free to make yourselves at home," Braska said. "If you'll excuse me, I must go check on my daughter."

Braska left the main room and disappeared around the corner. Auron and Jecht exchanged glances. "He has a daughter?" Jecht asked.

"Apparently so," Auron replied. Even though he'd met plenty of summoners, he always imagined they were peerless and without a family. If he had a family to walk out on, could he do it if it meant restoring Spira's hope? He was not so sure. Braska must be a strong man to leave his daughter behind to face Sin—especially knowing that he wouldn't return, regardless of whether he obtained the Final Aeon or not.

Although Braska had told them to make themselves at home, Auron thought it odd enough being in the home of a summoner. He felt unworthy to even be in such a place. Jecht, however, seemed to have no such problems. He wandered into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. "I'm starving," he muttered.

"I'm sure Lord Braska doesn't have alcohol in there," Auron said.

Jecht glared his way. "I'm looking for food, not booze."

"I'm surprised you can tell the difference."

"If we have to be stuck with each other all the way to Zanarkand, maybe we should work things out right here and now." He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. "What do you say, buddy? Should we take this outside?"

Auron chuckled. "You have no idea who you're speaking to."

"And neither do you."

Braska's voice interrupted them. He reappeared in the main room almost without a sound. "Gentlemen," he said. "I would like you to meet my daughter."

They both stopped what they were doing and looked Braska's way. At his side stood a young girl with short brown hair. She clutched her father's hand and smiled at the two strangers in her home. Much to Jecht's surprise, one of her eyes was blue and the other was green. He'd never seen anything like it.

Jecht crouched down in front of her. "Hi, there. What's your name?"

"I'm Yuna," she replied, her voice small and sweet.

"That's a pretty name. I'm Jecht. It's nice to meet you." He shook her small, delicate hand and gave her a big smile. "How old are you, Yuna?"

"I just turned seven."

"Seven!" he exclaimed. "What're the odds of that? My son's seven years old, too."

"You have a son?" Braska asked, taken aback.

Jecht looked up at him. "Yeah, I do."

"I had no idea."

Jecht rose to his feet. "I'm not as bad as I look. I've got a family, too."

Yuna giggled and looked him up and down. "You're dressed funny."

"Yuna!" Braska scolded her. "That's impolite."

"It's all right," Jecht chuckled. "I do look a bit silly, don't I? I'm not from Bevelle, that's why."

"You're not?" she asked. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Zanarkand."

She frowned and looked up at her father. "It's true," Braska said. "But he's not from the Zanarkand we know—he's from an entirely different Zanarkand altogether."

"A _different_ Zanarkand?" she asked.

Braska smiled. "I'm afraid it's difficult to explain, dear."

She looked back at Jecht and grinned again. "What's it like there?"

"It's really different from Bevelle," Jecht explained. "There are a lot more buildings, and they're much taller. There are lights and people everywhere, and the blitzball stadium is enormous!"

"Tell me more!"

"Perhaps later," Braska said, laughing. "I think our guests are hungry. Isn't that right?"

"Starving," Jecht replied.

Yuna pointed at Auron. "Who is he?"

"This is Sir Auron," Braska replied. "He used to work in the temple. Now he and Sir Jecht are my guardians."

Auron looked down at the young girl, smiling awkwardly. "Um…hello."

Jecht chuckled. "Not much of a kid person, are you, Auron?"

Auron shot him a look. He was actually quite surprised at how well Jecht was with the child. He'd only seen a confrontational side of this man so far, but with Yuna, it was the complete opposite. Maybe it was because he had a son of his own.

"That's all right, Auron," Braska said. "Yuna, why don't you set the table?"

Yuna left her father's company and went into the kitchen to collect plates and silverware for dinner. Braska approached his guests, peering into the kitchen at his daughter. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her beforehand," he said. "I try to keep Yuna out of the Yevon politics."

"You don't need to apologize," Jecht said. "You were just protecting her."

Braska nodded. "Thank you, Jecht. The truth is, I fear what people will think of her, knowing she is my daughter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jecht asked.

"She is the daughter of a summoner and an Al Bhed," Braska explained. "Yevon does not look kindly upon the Al Bhed, thus they do not look kindly upon me for marrying one. But Yuna is just a child. She doesn't know what any of this means yet, and I want to keep the negativity away from her as long as possible. She doesn't need prejudice influencing her."

"Who does?" Jecht replied. "I don't understand why people hate these Al Bhed."

"The Al Bhed introduced forbidden machina to Spira. It was that machina that caused the birth of Sin. Yevon believes we must atone for our wickedness to vanquish Sin completely. Until that day comes, we summoners must make the journey to the Zanarkand ruins, where we will obtain the Final Aeon and destroy Sin."

"But not completely?" Jecht asked.

Braska shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Sin can only be temporarily stopped. Every certain amount of years after its defeat, it returns. The time in between each of its rebirth cycles is known as the Calm."

"So that's why you're going to Zanarkand?" Jecht asked. "To bring the Calm?"

"Precisely."

"But if this Sin thing will just come back, why bother?"

Auron glared at him. "Should we do nothing instead?"

"I'm not saying that. But why risk your life if the thing can't be stopped?"

"We will do what we can until Sin is gone completely," Braska said. "The Calm may not last long, but the people of Spira need even that small amount of time to feel at peace. They deserve it. We all do."

"Hm," Jecht said, scratching his head. "I don't get it. But if it's what you gotta do, Braska, then it's what you gotta do."

Braska smiled. "In time, things will make sense to you."

"Yeah. Hopefully I'm not here too long, though."

"Yes. Hopefully. We'll do our best to help you find your way home."

The sound of food frying on the stove diverted their attention. "Yuna," Braska said, "I thought I told you not to do that without me watching."

"Sorry, Daddy," she replied. She slapped a few fish filets into the frying pan and went on with her task anyway.

"For being only seven years old," Braska said, "she's actually quite the little cook."

"Well, good," Jecht said. "Because I could use something delicious right now."

"Would you like any help, Lord Braska?" Auron offered.

"No need. Yuna likes to do it all herself. We have the pleasure of sitting back and watching."

And so they did. Yuna prepared and served dinner as if she'd been doing it for years. Watching the child patter around the kitchen, smiling and laughing, made Jecht think of his own kid back in Zanarkand. What was he doing right now? Did he miss his old man, or was he glad he was gone?

He tried not to think about Tidus, as hard as it was. It just made his heart ache, and made it that much more difficult to focus on keeping his head up. He had to keep it together if he wanted to return to Zanarkand.

The four of them sat around the dinner table, eating their fish, and discussing Spira and Zanarkand. "What do you do back in your world?" Braska asked Jecht.

"I'm a blitzball player. The _star_ player, actually."

"Blitzball, you say?" Braska asked. "We have a blitzball stadium in Luca. The Crusaders guard it around the clock to make sure Sin doesn't come near. Blitzball really is the only form of entertainment Spira has. It distracts the people long enough for them to forget about Sin."

"Luca, huh?" Jecht said. "Maybe we can swing by and check it out."

"I don't think so," Auron said. "Lord Braska's pilgrimage is not a vacation. It's a strict journey that shouldn't be taken lightly."

"Perhaps if we pass Luca and have time," Braska said, "we can stop." He turned to Auron, who wore a look of betrayal. "You're right, Auron—we shouldn't take this journey lightly. But we also must make room for a few moments of fun. If we don't, this will be a long, long trip."

"Yeah," Jecht agreed. "We can afford a minute or two to stop, can't we, Auron?"

He was gloating, Auron knew. Instead of arguing, Auron went back to his food. They spent more time talking about summoners and Bevelle and Sin, though Braska tried to steer the conversation away from the more depressing topics.

They helped clear the table once dinner was done. As soon as the final dish was washed and put away, Yuna was at Jecht's side, requesting to hear stories about Zanarkand. Braska and Yuna sat together on the couch while Jecht acted out dramatic stories—some true, some probably exaggerated for Yuna's sake. Auron stood off to the side watching, seeing something in Jecht he didn't think could exist. The man wasn't entirely bad. He made Yuna laugh, and even Lord Braska, too. Could it be possible that there was more to Jecht that what met the eye? More than his confrontational demeanor?

Somewhere around ten o'clock at night, Yuna fell asleep on the couch. While Braska carried her to her room and tucked her in, Auron went outside for some fresh air. He looked up at the black sky and twinkling stars, wondering if they'd somehow look any different once they left Bevelle and set out for Zanarkand.

Auron wondered if little Yuna knew what would become of her father, if she truly understood the Final Summoning and what would happen if he achieved it. Either way, he would not be coming back. They would reach Zanarkand and Braska would obtain the Final Aeon, or they would all die trying. Did she know she wouldn't see her father again after tomorrow?

The door opened, startling Auron. He reached for his sword out of habit before he realized it was just Jecht. "Didn't mean to scare you," Jecht said.

Auron released his grip on his sword and returned to stargazing.

"So, Auron," Jecht said, approaching his side, "what's your story?"

"Excuse me?" Auron asked.

"Well, I told you mine. So what's yours?"

"None of your business."

"Come on. Don't be such a grump. I'm only asking because I'd like to know who I'm gonna be traveling with. You don't have something to hide, do you?"

"Of course not," Auron said. "But I don't know you, and I don't care to share my deepest secrets with you."

"You don't have to share your deepest secrets. I'd just like to know why you're such a stick in the mud."

Auron wanted to teach him some manners, but he was beginning to understand that this was just Jecht's way. That wouldn't change.

And maybe Jecht was right—he'd shared some stuff about himself, so Auron ought to do the same. With a sigh, he said, "Just days ago, I was a warrior monk of Yevon."

"What's this Yevon thing you guys keep talking about?"

Auron resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. "Yevon is our religion. Nearly everyone in Spira follows the teachings of Yevon."

"Gotcha," Jecht said. "But you don't anymore?"

"They wanted me to do something I could not. My refusal led to my release from the clergy."

"What'd they want you to do?"

"To marry a woman I'd never met."

"Ha! That's it?"

Auron narrowed his eyes. "I did not spend my whole life working up through the ranks just to marry. I was being groomed for the position of General."

"All right, all right," Jecht said, waving him off. "I guess that makes sense. So you were a warrior monk and now you're a guardian?"

"Lord Braska sought me out and requested it," Auron replied.

"Sounds sweet. You got off real easy."

"You think being a guardian is easy?" Auron scoffed. "You know nothing, Jecht."

"No, I don't. Suppose I'll learn along the way."

"Braska's life is in your hands. You cannot take this so lightly."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to Braska. He's gotta come back home to his little girl, don't he? We're gonna make that happen."

Auron bit his tongue at that comment. Jecht obviously didn't understand the Final Summoning and what it meant, and he didn't want to be the one to explain it—at least not right now.

The thought of Yuna brought Jecht's earlier comment to Auron's mind. "I didn't know you have a son," he said.

Jecht faced him and sighed. "Yeah. He's a little runt, though. Not enough meat on his bones."

"He must be missing you."

Jecht looked away. "Probably not. He and I don't always get along."

"But he's your son. Even if you disagree, I'm sure he misses you."

"Being my son don't mean anything."

"You shouldn't say that."

"Sorry, Auron," Jecht said. "You don't have any kids, so you can't understand."

"I lost my parents at a young age," Auron said, "and I still miss them."

Jecht turned around and leaned on the banister, looking up at the stars once more. "Can we stop talking about it?"

"I'm sorry," Auron said.

"It's all right. I just…don't want to think about him. That's all."

"I understand." Auron looked up at the sky with him. "We will help you find a way back home, Jecht. You'll see your son again."

Jecht looked at him. "So you believe me now, too?"

"I…I don't know," Auron said. "But Lord Braska does, and that's enough for me. I don't think it possible that you turned up out of nowhere. You may not be from Zanarkand, but you certainly aren't from Spira."

"Maybe I'm just running a long con on the two of you," Jecht suggested, grinning.

"That's not funny," Auron snapped. "After what Lord Braska has done for you, you should—"

Jecht waved his hands and laughed. "I'm totally kidding. You should learn how to take a joke, kid."

"Kid?"

"You're a little too young to be so uptight. I guess Spira will do that to you."

Auron collected himself and headed for the door. "No. _Sin_ will do that to you. Not all of us can live such simple, careless lives."

Just as soon as Jecht had shown that he was capable of being an agreeable person, he'd gone back to his old ways. Auron wondered why he even bothered. He left Jecht standing on the porch and returned inside for the last night of sleep he'd spend in Bevelle for a while—or possibly ever.

* * *

Jecht was awake before anyone else the next day. In fact, he wasn't even sure he'd slept. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning and his makeshift bed on Braska's living room floor. It had nothing to do with comfort and everything to do with homesickness.

Of course, he would never admit that to anyone else. He was the great Jecht, after all. He didn't let anything get in the way of what he needed to do. But he'd spent the night before in a prison cell, and the last night on Braska's floor, in a foreign place with strangers. He'd only been gone from home for two days, and he already missed his family. How long would it take to get back to Zanarkand?

He wouldn't deny that he'd thought about taking off in the night, but where would he go? And how could he do that to Braska, the only person who'd shown him kindness since he'd washed up on the shores of Spira? It just wouldn't sit right with him in the long run. He would fulfill his promise to Braska, and hopefully Braska would do the same for him. Hopefully, there was a way back to Zanarkand for Jecht.

Once he was sure Auron was also awake, Jecht got up and began cleaning up his bed. He didn't like Auron, but he wouldn't be rude and wake him up. If their upcoming journey was as intensive as he and Braska had made it sound, they would all need proper rest.

Braska emerged from his room shortly after they had awakened. Jecht expected to see sadness on his face, but he looked as ready as he had the day before. Perhaps he'd already prepared his heart and mind for this departure. Jecht wondered if Yuna had done the same.

"Are we ready to go?" Braska asked.

"As ready as ever," Jecht replied.

"Good. Yuna?" Yuna came around the corner, dressed for the day. "Will you say goodbye to Sir Auron and Sir Jecht?"

All of the happiness from the night before was gone. Yuna was no longer smiling and bouncing. She held back tears and refused to meet anyone's eye.

"Hey now," Jecht said, crouching down in front of her. "It's gonna be all right. Me and Auron are gonna take care of your father. There's nothing to worry about."

She wiped her nose and nodded.

"I'll tell you what," Jecht continued. "If you promise to be good while your father is gone, I'll come back and visit once he's defeated Sin. I'll even teach you some cool blitzball moves! Remember the one I showed you?"

She lifted her head just a bit and looked at him. "The Jecht Shot?"

"That's the one. I'll teach it to you next time I see you. How does that sound?"

The smallest of smiles appeared and she nodded.

Braska stepped forward and placed a hand on Yuna's shoulder. "Would you mind giving me a moment alone with my daughter?"

"Of course not," Auron said. "Jecht. Let's wait outside."

They emerged onto the front porch and looked up at the rising sun. It had not yet risen over the horizon, but it was on its way. "How long will the pilgrimage take?" Jecht asked.

"I can't say," Auron replied. "It depends on how fast we move—and how much trouble we encounter along the way."

"Where will Yuna go while Braska's away?"

"To the temple, most likely. The priests will look after her."

"Hm. That's no way for a kid to grow up."

"It's the only solution for now," Auron said. "She'll be safe in the temple."

"And when Braska comes back, what then? Will she come back home?"

There it was again. That question about when Braska would return. Auron couldn't bring himself to tell to the truth or to say, "He won't be coming back." But he could only ignore it for so long. Being a guardian, Jecht deserved to know the truth—Auron just didn't know how to explain it. It might be better to do it now rather than later, but talking about death was not a conversational topic. For now, he'd brush it under the rug.

"You ask too many questions," he said, changing the subject.

"Well, excuse me," Jecht shot back. "I'm not from around here. What do you expect?"

Fortunately, Braska opened the door at that moment. He and Yuna emerged, each carrying a suitcase. "Are we ready?" Braska asked.

"What's with the bags?" Jecht said.

Braska hesitated. "I'm…I'm taking Yuna to the temple in Bevelle. Then we'll be on our way."

"Oh. Well, here. Let me help." Jecht took the bag for Yuna so she could hold her father's hand. That smile that she'd worn so many times before was now gone. Her head drooped, and tears streaked down her cheeks. Everyone did their best to pretend they didn't see it.

The walk to the temple was completely silent except for the occasional sniffle from Yuna. Jecht wished there was some way she could come with them, but if the journey really was as dangerous as Braska and Auron made it sound, she was better off in the temple. After all, Braska would be back after he defeated Sin. She wouldn't be here forever.

For what Jecht hoped was the last time, they entered the Bevelle temple. All of the guards and monks offered Braska the gesture of prayer. As for Jecht and Auron, they only glared. "They really don't like us, do they?" Jecht muttered.

Auron did not respond. A monk approached Braska and bowed. "Summoner Braska. It is good to see you." He looked at Yuna and smiled. "And it's also good to see you, Lady Yuna. Look how tall you've gotten!"

Yuna looked down and drew closer to her father's side, still clutching his hand.

"She'll come around," Braska assured the monk. He bent down in front of his daughter and wiped the tears from her face. "Don't cry, darling."

"Do you have to go?" she whispered.

Braska nodded. "I must stop Sin in order to give you and everyone else a long, happy life. But just because I'm leaving, it doesn't mean this is the end. One day, we'll see each other again."

She looked down and continued to cry. The sight of little Yuna in such distress made Jecht uncomfortable, and he couldn't take anymore. Setting down her suitcase, he turned and left the temple. Outside, he breathed in the fresh air and tried to push the approaching thoughts of his own son to the back of his mind. He looked up at the sky and sighed. "You'd better not be crying," he muttered. "I'm coming back, and I'd better not find you crying."

"Jecht?" Auron called. He turned around and found his new comrade coming his way. "Are you all right?"

"Just fine," Jecht lied. "I had to get outta there. Those uptight priests were making it hard to breathe." He crossed his arms and faced Auron. "How's little Yuna?"

"She's doing her best to stay strong. She'll be okay."

"Hm. I sure hope so. Hate to see her upset like that."

A few minutes later, Braska emerged from the temple. Once again, Jecht expected to find him sad and struggling to keep it together, but his resolve did not waver. Neither Jecht nor Auron said a word about Yuna.

At last, Braska set forward down the Highbridge. "Let's go."

The three of them picked up the pace and started moving. With each step they took away from the temple, their urge to look back grew, yet not one of them turned.

To keep them distracted, Jecht removed the empty sphere from his pocket that Yuna had given him the night before. She'd shown him how to use it and suggested that he record their journey to show to his son when he returned home.

Jecht walked backwards as he started filming. Auron, the first to realize what was going on, scowled at him. "What are you taking?" he demanded.

"Well," Jecht replied, "you said it was gonna be a long trip. We'll be seeing a lot of neat things, right? So I thought I'd record it all—to show to my wife and kid, you know."

"This is no pleasure cruise."

Jecht ignored him. "Hey, Braska. Ain't this supposed to be a grand occasion? Where are the cheering fans, the crying women?"

"This is it," Braska shrugged. "Too many goodbyes, people think twice about leaving."

"If you say so," Jecht sighed. "Well, it'd better be a lot more colorful when we come back." He threw his fist into the air. "A parade for Braska, vanquisher of Sin!"

Braska chuckled. "We should go. Day will break soon."

Jecht took that as Braska's polite request to put the sphere away. They continued down the Highbridge, prepared to face whatever trials lay in their path.

* * *

 **And now we've met little Yuna!**

 **I should clarify something before anyone else points it out: technically, Yuna had never met Auron until her own pilgrimage (as she states in her goodbye sphere that she had always wanted to meet him), but the timeline doesn't really make sense. Auron was already with Braska by the time they found Jecht, and Yuna had met Jecht at some point (which obviously would've been after Braska had freed him). So how had she never met Auron, too? If someone could clear it up, I'd appreciate it, although I'm not going to rewrite it. I just wanted to throw out that disclaimer. :)**

 **Anyhow, chapter 8 will be posted on Friday, July 31! See you guys then, and remember to leave a review! :)**


	8. The First Stop

**Hello again!**

 **So the general consensus seems to be that Yuna just forgot about Auron. Poor Auron, right? He was just so easily forgettable back then, I guess! As much as I love FFX, no one can deny that there are some silly plot holes here and there.**

 **Reibunriinta: I think they just keep saying that "maybe Sin won't come back" thing because it's easier to have hope than to give up. Like Lady Yunalesca said, "Hope is comforting. It allows us to accept fate, however tragic it may be." Also, they (naively) believed they could get rid of Sin with complete atonement...even though that's pretty much impossible. Good thing for Yuna & Co, though! They finally broke the cycle.**

* * *

"Check out this place," Jecht said. "It's even bigger than the temple in Bevelle!"

It was Auron's third time visiting the Macalania Temple over the past three days. Even if he'd never been here before that, he'd certainly be bored of it now.

Braska chuckled. "It is something, isn't it? The entire temple is constructed of ice. The outside isn't much to look at, but the inside is quite the sight."

"What's this place called?" Jecht asked.

"Macalania. It's here where I will obtain my next aeon."

"Er…aeon?"

"You'll see soon enough," Braska promised. "Let's go inside."

Together, the three of them continued into the temple. Each monk and guard they passed offered them the blessing of Yevon. Even though they were not so far from Bevelle, the lack of stares and whispers made it a pleasant visit. If anyone knew who Jecht and Auron were, at least they were kind enough to keep any ill wishes to themselves.

They followed a long, winding, snowy passage to the actual temple at the end of the path. Below them, the drop was so far that they could not see the bottom. Whatever lay below was enveloped in mist. Above, a transparent ceiling of ice boxed them in. "The temple is built underneath the Macalania Lake," Braska explained.

"Fancy," Jecht replied. "So we're here to get something called an aeon, right? How long does that take?"

"It depends on how long it takes the fayth to accept my prayer."

"What's a fayth?"

"The fayth are the beings we summoners pray to in order to receive the aeon. We must travel to every temple in Spira and receive every aeon if we hope to defeat Sin."

Jecht whistled. "And how many temples are there?"

Braska laughed. "Don't worry, Jecht. We'll reach Zanarkand soon enough."

They stopped outside the temple doors where they were greeted by two monks. "I am Summoner Braska from Bevelle," Braska told them.

"Welcome, summoner," the first monk said. "You are the first to arrive today. The Cloister of Trials awaits you."

Braska dipped his head in thanks, then continued into the temple with Jecht and Auron following. The inside of the main temple hall was almost identical to the one in Bevelle, though a lot less crowded. At the bottom of the central staircase leading up to the decorated door, Braska stopped and faced his guardians. "Beyond this door is the Cloister of Trials," he explained. "And beyond that is the Chamber of the Fayth. We could be here a while. I need you to be prepared."

"We'll wait however long it takes, my lord," Auron replied.

Jecht put a hand up to stop them. "And just what is a Cloister of Trials?"

"If we have to stop to explain everything to you," Auron said, "we'll never reach Zanarkand."

"Hey!" Jecht cried. "If I'm gonna be a guardian, I should know what's going on, too."

"Yes, you should," Braska agreed. "The Cloister contains a series of tests and challenges that we must complete together to reach the fayth. It is a test of our strength and wisdom to prove that I am worthy to call upon the aeon."

"And when are you gonna tell me exactly what an aeon is?"

"I'd rather you see it for yourself than explain it to you," Braska answered. "It will happen soon enough. Just be patient."

"Not one of your strong suits, is it?" Auron asked.

"Hmph," Jecht said. "I'll do what I gotta do. Let's just get on with it."

"Yes," Braska said. "Let's."

They marched up the steps to the door and pushed their way through. A long snowy path stretched out before them, then suddenly cut off halfway through. Down below were several pillars, pedestals, and snowy banks.

"This way," Braska said, taking the path that trailed off to the left of the bridge. In the center of the room below, a single pillar stretched toward the bridge above. It must've supported a missing section of the bridge. In the pedestal at the base of the pillar, a neon green sphere glowed.

"We'll have to recreate the bridge," Auron said. "These spheres must be the key."

Braska approached the empty pedestal standing beside the pillar. Then, he removed the sphere and inserted it into the recess of the pedestal. A purple glyph appeared, hovering over the pedestal.

"Hey," Jecht said. "Looks like you've figured it out."

Braska gave the pedestal a light push and it slid across the icy floor toward an icicle just ahead, causing it to vanish completely. He gave it another push toward the icicle across from them, and upon impact, the second icicle also disappeared, revealing a ramp beyond. The pedestal followed the path down the ramp.

The group made their way down to the lower level. There, they found another section of the pillar. Braska removed the glyph sphere and looked from the recess on the left side of the wall, to the pillar, and then to the recess on the right side of the wall. He reached for the pillar but then hesitated and went to the left recess. A green trail of light shot up along the wall, disappearing from sight, followed by a rumbling noise above.

"Let's go see what that was," Jecht said, returning to the upper level. When they arrived, they found that a section of the floor had risen with a white glowing sphere cupped in its recess. "This must go in one of those pillars," Jecht said.

Braska retrieved the sphere and returned to the lower level. He had not voiced his thoughts once, yet the others couldn't help noticing how he seemed to know exactly what to do. Perhaps summoners just possessed a certain intuition for the Cloisters.

Before they went down the ramp, Braska pointed at the white sphere in the recess on the far right wall. "Bring that one, too."

Jecht collected the sphere and followed his comrades downstairs. Braska inserted his sphere into the pillar, and a white light wound its way up and around the pillar. "That's one out of three," Braska said. "Jecht, place the sphere into the pedestal and push it underneath that hanging pillar over there."

Once Jecht did as he was told, the newly-formed pillar reacted just as the first had. "One left," Jecht said.

For the Nth time, they went back upstairs. Braska removed the final white sphere at the top of the ramp and approached the pillar in the center of the room, inserting the sphere. The final portion of the walkway reappeared.

"You're good at this," Jecht said "Would've taken me a week to do on my own."

Braska chuckled. "Let's keep moving. The fayth awaits us."

They returned to the pathway above and finished their walk to the Chamber of the Fayth up ahead. The room outside the Chamber was quite small, with barely enough room for the three of them to stand together. Braska approached the door at the back of the room. Jecht tried to get a glimpse inside, but as soon as the door opened, Braska was gone, and Jecht was left alone with Auron.

"What now?" Jecht asked.

"Now we wait." Auron took a seat in the corner and leaned against the wall.

"For how long?"

"You heard Braska. For however long it takes."

"What do we do until then?"

"Sit down and be quiet."

Jecht sighed and took a seat on the opposite side of the room. Maybe he could get some shuteye while he waited—or was he supposed to stay awake?

"Is Braska in any kind of danger in there?" Jecht asked.

"Of course not," Auron replied. "He's in there with the fayth. If the fayth deems him worthy, he will join with Braska and assist him in the fight against Sin."

"What do you mean, join with him?"

"The fayth were once human beings who willingly gave their souls and had them imprisoned inside statues, so that when the time came to fight Sin, they could be called upon. When a summoner prays to the fayth, if his prayer is accepted, the fayth leaves the statue, and the summoner absorbs his soul. Then, whenever Braska summons the aid of the fayth, he comes."

"As an aeon?" Jecht guessed.

For the first time Jecht had seen, the slightest trace of a grin appeared on Auron's face. "You're catching on."

"I ain't as dumb as I look."

"Summoner and aeon share a very special bond for the summoner's entire life," Auron continued. "If the summoner dies and the bond is severed, the fayth will return to the temple and await the next summoner worthy enough to receive it."

"What if the fayth doesn't accept Braska's prayer?"

"That's not an option," Auron said. "Braska will not leave without the aeon. He cannot if he wishes to defeat Sin."

"Huh. So you really mean however long it takes."

"Exactly. So you're best off relaxing while you can." With that advice, Auron leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Jecht followed suit and took advantage of the silence—well, silence except for that song he'd heard since the moment he'd arrived in Spira. It was peaceful enough, but everywhere he went, he heard it. "What _is_ that?" he asked.

Auron opened his eyes. "What?"

"That song. It's everywhere."

"It's the hymn of the fayth. It soothes the souls of the dead."

Jecht closed his eyes once more. "I think I've heard it before."

"When you arrived in Bevelle?"

"No. Before that."

"You don't mean in Zanarkand, do you?" Auron asked.

"Yeah. I do," Jecht replied. "Maybe Spira and Zanarkand are connected somehow, you know?"

"That's impossible. Assuming your Zanarkand truly exists, how could our two worlds interact?"

"I have no idea," Jecht sighed. "But I do know I've heard that song before. That's one thing I'm sure about."

"Hm," Auron said. Maybe Jecht was just pulling his leg—but why would he? He didn't exactly care for Jecht, but by this point, he didn't think the man was making anything up. He had nothing to gain by doing so.

And if in the end it turned out that Jecht _was_ trying to pull the wool over their eyes, Auron would deal with it. Braska did not need that additional stress.

Regardless of what happened with Jecht, there wasn't much he could do right now. He leaned back once more and closed his eyes, hoping to get a little rest while they waited for Braska.

* * *

After about three hours of waiting, the door to the Chamber of the Fayth opened. Auron was on his feet in an instant, as alert as if he'd been awake the entire time. Jecht took a little longer to collect himself, but he rose as well and looked expectantly upon Braska.

The summoner emerged from the Chamber, using the walls to steady himself. He took a step forward and nearly tumbled over, but Auron instantly caught him. "Thank you, Auron," he said weakly. "If you could just set me down, I can take a moment to gain my strength."

Auron carefully released him. Braska sat on his knees for a moment, inhaling slow, deep breaths. He looked very close to fainting. Jecht approached him and bent down in front of him. "Can we get you anything?"

Braska shook his head. "No. Thank you, Jecht. I'll be okay."

"Is it that bad in there?"

"I can't explain it," Braska replied. "When the fayth joins with the summoner, it makes him…weak. As if the body needs to reset."

"Hm. Doesn't sound too pleasant."

"But…" Braska slowly pushed himself to his feet. Auron kept a hand on his arm to steady him and make sure he didn't fall. "It is what it is. It's only a moment of pain."

"So…you got the aeon then?" Jecht asked.

Braska smiled. "Yes. I did. Now we can be on our way."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. This isn't my first aeon. I knew what to expect."

"Then let's get going," Jecht said. "I'll lead the way. Auron will keep an eye on you."

The three of them slowly made their way out the temple, back through the Cloister of Trials, and into the main temple hall. The monks and temple attendants turned to look at them as soon as they returned, but Braska did not say anything. He did not gloat or declare himself to be the best summoner there ever was. He simply continued on.

"Don't you wanna show off?" Jecht asked. "After what you did, you deserve it."

Braska chuckled. "It's very unbecoming of a summoner to boast. There are many more skilled and powerful summoners who did not survive their pilgrimages to face Sin. We must be humble."

Humility wasn't something Jecht understood, and he'd be the first to admit it. But if Braska wanted to keep quiet, he would do the same.

Just as they reached the door to leave the temple, someone threw the door open and marched inside. Like Braska, he was extravagantly dressed, and was also accompanied by two guardians. He carried himself in a haughty manner, with his head high and a smirk on his face. He stopped in front of Braska, blocking his path and looking him up and down. "So," he said, "you must be Braska."

Braska bowed. "I am. And who, pray tell, are you?"

"I'm surprised you don't know," the man scoffed. "My name is Ivran. I come from Luca."

"You've made quite the journey already," Braska said.

"Yes, I have. Have you only recently started your pilgrimage?"

"Yes. Today, actually."

"Hm. It shows."

"Excuse me?" Jecht snapped, stepping forward. "Who do you think you are, buddy?"

Ivran gave him a disgusted look. "And just who are you?"

"I'm the great Sir Jecht. Haven't you heard of _me_?"

Ivran chuckled. "Jecht, did you say? Are you the same Jecht who was imprisoned in Bevelle two days ago for blaspheming Yevon?"

"That's me," Jecht said, popping his knuckles. "So you _do_ know who I am. You've probably heard I'm a lunatic who thinks he's from Zanarkand, too, haven't you?"

"I've heard many things about you," Ivran replied, "all of which I didn't believe until seeing you now. You certainly are quite the sight." He glanced over his shoulder at his guardians. "It seems that the old adage is true: lions walk with lions, and hyenas walk with hyenas."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jecht growled, pointing a finger in Ivran's face.

"That a disgraced summoner such as Braska would so fittingly choose riff-raff like you."

Jecht stood toe-to-toe with Ivran, their faces only inches away. "You can say whatever you want about me, but if you say another word about Braska, I'll hit you so hard, it'll scare Sin away."

"Jecht!" Braska warned. "That's enough."

Ivran laughed. "Perhaps another time, friend. Right now, I have work to do." He brushed past Jecht, making a point to bump into him. "A word to the wise," he said, stopping halfway across the temple hall to face Braska. "You should quit while you're ahead. Even if you reach Zanarkand, don't count on receiving the Final Aeon. Defilers of Yevon aren't looked kindly upon, even if they are trying to stop Sin. You should do yourself a favor and go back home to your half-breed daughter."

"That's quite enough, Ivran," Braska ordered.

Jecht, on the other hand, flew across the room at the summoner, but one of his hulking guardians blocked the attack and knocked Jecht flat on his back. He grabbed Jecht by the throat and cocked his fist back, preparing to strike, but was stopped when the tip of a sword touched his throat. The guardian looked up with wide eyes, frozen in place. There Auron stood with the point of his sword at the man's throat. "If you know what's good for you," Auron said, "you'll let him go and walk away."

He didn't need to be told twice. The guardian released Jecht and took a step back, looking both embarrassed and angry. Auron stood protectively before Jecht and held his sword down at his side.

Ivran chuckled. "My, my. What have we here? Another abandoner of Yevon? I'm surprised you're even allowed to become a guardian after the way you left, Auron."

"Your insults and disrespect almost cost your guardian his life, and you still continue to mock us?" Auron demanded.

A monk suddenly came their way. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Braska said, stepping forward. "Just a simple disagreement. We were on our way out." He looked at Auron. "Auron, please. Disarm yourself."

The monk gave Auron a suspicious look as he sheathed his sword, then glanced down at Jecht. "Then I suggest you make your way out more quickly."

Auron offered a hand to Jecht and helped him to his feet. The three of them continued for the exit while Ivran headed for the Chamber of the Fayth. "I hope to see you three again," he called.

"He has some nerve," Jecht growled.

"Ignore him," Braska insisted. "He is the least of our concerns."

"He can't speak to you that way. And if he ever says another thing like that about Yuna, I swear I'll—"

"Jecht, please," Braska said softly. "That's enough. It's over now."

They emerged from the temple, stepping into the chilly afternoon breeze. "Don't you wanna set him straight?" Jecht asked. "He said some pretty terrible things and he shouldn't get away with it."

"They were quite hurtful," Braska agreed, "but our war is not with each other. It's with Sin. We must maintain that focus."

"A man like Ivran won't get far," Auron said, "no matter how powerful he may be."

"You think?" Jecht asked. "There's only one way to be sure."

"That's absolutely not true," Braska said.

"I know you're supposed to keep it together and all, but…how could you just stand by and let Ivran insult you like that? If it were me, I would've beat that guy to a pulp."

Braska turned and gazed out at the stretch of icy paths that lay ahead of them. "His prejudice and his hatred only fuel me. The less people believe in me, the more I want to prove they are wrong."

 _Kind of like how you treat your kid,_ said that familiar voice in the back of Jecht's head. With that thought in mind, he understood Braska's reasoning completely—but that didn't mean he was okay with it. "Well, I think you should've let us take him down."

"We cannot solve all our problems with our fists," Braska said. "Some problems—the ones that don't really matter—must be ignored so that we can press forward."

Braska took his own advice and headed down the path leading them back toward Bevelle. Jecht and Auron exchanged glances. "I'd like to take that little shrimp in a real fight," Jecht said.

"To be honest, Jecht," Auron replied, "I would, too."

They set forward, catching up to Braska. It must've been somewhere around noon, close to lunchtime. They had already done so much, yet it seemed like they had barely made progress.

"Where will we go now?" Jecht asked.

"We'll stop at Rin's Travel Agency to rest," Braska replied. "Then we'll set out for the Djose Temple."

"To get another aeon?" Jecht asked. "When do I get to see one of these things?"

Braska chuckled. "Soon, Jecht. Soon."

"Are you just trynna be modest?"

"Something like that."

"You're a summoner," Jecht said, "and a good one at that. It's okay to brag a little bit."

"Thank you, Jecht, but the only bragging I'll be doing is through my defeat of Sin."

The rest of the short trek to the travel agency was made in silence. No one wanted to bring up Ivran or any of the things he said, yet it was all any of them could think about. Secretly, Jecht hoped they would cross paths again—only so he could pop him in the nose and make him pay for what he'd said. Who did that guy think he was, talking to Braska like that? Braska, one of the kindest people Jecht had ever met. The very thought of that little man made Jecht's blood boil.

At last, they arrived at the travel agency. "This is a cozy little spot," Jecht mused. "Hey, why don't we get a shot of this place?"

"That's a wonderful idea," Braska said. "Would you like to be in it this time, Jecht? I'm sure your boy would like to see that."

"Sure. Why not?" He handed the sphere over to Braska and stepped into view of the camera. The travel agency was a perfect backdrop.

"Auron!" Braska called. "Could you stand closer to him?"

Auron sighed and stepped closer to Jecht. He really didn't want to be a part of this nonsense, but Braska seemed to enjoy it, so he would humor him. "Good!" Braska said. "That should do it."

"What's the matter?" Jecht snickered, turning to Auron. "Afraid I might bite?"

Auron gave him a warning look. "Jecht…"

"Braska, you should take one, too," Jecht said. "It'd make a great gift for little Yuna."

Braska tried on a smile. "I suppose."

Auron couldn't keep his feelings to himself any longer. "Lord Braska, we shouldn't be wasting our time like this."

"What's the hurry, man?" Jecht asked.

Shaking his head, Auron stepped out of frame and returned to Braska's side. "Let me tell you what the hurry is."

"Auron!" Braska called, shutting off the sphere. "It's all right."

"There you go again," Jecht said, "sucking the fun out of things."

"If I didn't suck the fun out of things," Auron fired back, "we wouldn't get anywhere because you would distract us every step of the way."

Braska just laughed at the two of them. "I think I chose my guardians perfectly. What do you two say about lunch?"

"I could definitely eat," Jecht said, heading for the travel agency.

Braska placed a hand on Auron's shoulder as he followed after Jecht, stopping him. "I appreciate the way you handle things, Auron, but I wish you would enjoy yourself more."

"I'm sorry, Lord Braska," Auron said. "I don't wish to make you uncomfortable. I just think we should take things a bit more seriously."

"There's no need to apologize. But do try to relax, won't you? We'll reach Zanarkand sooner or later. Until then, we can afford a few moments to ourselves."

Auron nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Now let's go inside," Braska said. "We deserve to rest for now."

* * *

After Braska and Auron went to bed, Jecht left the travel agency. It must've been close to midnight, but like the night before, he was restless. He couldn't sleep. Every time his head hit the pillow, he could only think about what he didn't have at that moment, and how much more he wanted it.

The moonlight reflected off the snowy banks and the frozen lake. Crickets chirped and owls hooted in the distance, as if inviting him to explore. Since he didn't see himself falling asleep anytime soon, he couldn't think of anything better to do. He wandered down the snowy incline and into the forest ahead, shivering yet content. At least if he was moving, he could distract himself for the time being.

In his wanderings, he found a sparkling pond hidden behind some low hanging branches. After knocking them out of his way, he was able to reach the hidden treasure in the forest. He'd never seen something so beautiful—not even in Zanarkand. The place was so serene, so quiet, he had to wonder if he was dreaming.

It was the first time he'd been alone since washing up on the shores of Bevelle. Even when he'd been imprisoned, guards had been right outside the prison doors. He hadn't truly been alone since before Sin took him away from Zanarkand. Somehow, being alone was worse than not being able to sleep. At least at the inn, he had Auron and Braska around. Their company comforted him in a way, made him feel like he wasn't the only one who'd lost something or left it behind.

But out here, it was the complete opposite. All his loneliness rushed over him, as if the dam holding back his emotions had broken. He had to get it off his chest somehow.

Taking a seat in the shallow waters of the lake, he removed a sphere from his pocket and placed it in front of him. He hadn't seen his family in three days, and right now, he was really missing them—and for some reason, especially the little runt.

He flipped on the sphere and heard the familiar humming noise that meant it was recording. "Hey," he began. "If you're sitting there watching this, it means you're stuck in Spira like me. You might not know when you'll get back home, but you'd better not be crying."

No, that sounded too harsh. Especially if somehow, Tidus ended up in Spira, too. Jecht himself was barely holding it together. How could he expect his kid to do the same?

"Although I guess I'd understand," he continued. "But you know what? There's a time when you have to stop crying and move on. You'll be fine. Remember: you're my son. And…well…uh…never mind. I'm no good at these things."

He got up and retrieved the sphere, holding it in a way so that his face wasn't in the frame. He couldn't let his son see him getting choked up—not that Tidus would ever see this thing. It just made him feel better to think that somehow, someway, he could communicate with Tidus again. Even though he would never see Jecht's messages, at least he could feel that his son was there with him.

With a sigh, he finished the recording. "Anyways…I believe in you. Be good."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, resisting the urge to spill a few tears—something that rarely ever happened to him. "Goodbye."

* * *

 **Poor Jecht. He just misses his family. :(**

 **And that's all for chapter 8! See you guys next Friday, August 7, for chapter 9! R &R, please!**


	9. Earning His Name

**Welcome back, new and seasoned followers! I am actually posting this chapter a little bit earlier than I said, only because I don't want to forget to post it tomorrow. So lucky you guys!**

 **Reibunriinta: Ivran is an OC. There aren't many OCs in this story, but he is one of them. So is the person you'll meet below. And as for how Auron "knows" about the sphere being there...you got me! Logic doesn't always apply, ha. I mean, who was recording Auron's scene with Kinoc? Or did Auron place it somewhere and then choose to stand in the exact perfect spot so he and Kinoc could be seen? And for that matter, why did they bother scattering all these spheres throughout Spira instead of entrusting them to someone to make sure they reached their kids?! Logic, right? Haha.**

* * *

"Are you mad, Braska?" Jecht asked.

Braska glanced over his shoulder at Jecht as they continued through the Thunder Plains. "What would I be mad about?"

"About what happened in Macalania yesterday with Ivran."

"Oh," Braska chuckled. "That. No, Jecht. I'm not mad at all. I hope you haven't been dwelling on it too much."

"Well, I have been," Jecht replied. "The last thing I want is to make you look bad."

"Truthfully, I am honored that you defended me. You are a good man and a good friend."

That wasn't something Jecht heard often. He wasn't the worst person in the world, but he wasn't exactly the greatest either. Braska, however, seemed to feel otherwise. There was a big difference between being admired and praised, and being respected—especially by someone like Braska. If anything, Jecht should be kissing _his_ feet. "Thanks, Braska," he said. "So you said we're headed for someplace called Djose next, right?"

"That's right. It's on the other side of the Thunder Plains, past the Moonflow. But we'll cut straight across and avoid the Moonflow for now. The faster we reach the temple, the better."

"Will there be another Cloister there?"

"Of course. They're in every temple."

They reached the northernmost end of the Thunder Plains and gazed out across the dark expanse of land. A lightning bolt struck the ground some hundred feet away. "Whoa!" Jecht cried. "Did you see that?"

"It's like this throughout the entire region," Auron said. "Hence the name."

"So how do we cross without getting zapped to death?"

Braska pointed straight ahead. "See those towers? They function like lightning rods that draw the electricity toward them. So long as we stick closely to the towers, we will be fine."

"Hm," Jecht said, stroking his chin. "Sounds risky. I like it!"

Braska chuckled. "Well, let's go then."

They made their way into the Thunder Plains, careful to stay near the towers. On several occasions, the lightning came dangerously close to striking them—much to Jecht's amusement—but as Braska said, they were safe.

They were halfway across the area when Jecht suddenly stopped. "I've got an idea," he said. He reached into his pocket and handed a sphere to Auron, who had no choice but to take it as Jecht ran off. He stopped in an open area and stretched his arms out to the side. "Hey!" he cried. "Hold it steady!"

Auron sighed. "Why am I doing this?" He switched the sphere off, earing himself a firm scolding from Jecht. "Turn it back on, man! You're about to witness history in the making!"

Auron rolled his eyes and flipped the sphere on again, focusing it on Braska who stood off to the side near the base of the tower, staring into the distance. For the first time since Auron had known him, Braska seemed…distracted. Maybe he was thinking about Yuna.

"What do you see there, my lord?" Auron asked.

Braska blinked and shook his head, coming out of his trance. "Oh, I was just…thinking."

"This is important!" Jecht called. "Stop fooling around! You're gonna spoil it!"

Before Auron could readjust the camera, a bolt of lightning struck Jecht, sending him flying backwards head over heels. He lay there for a moment out in the open, not moving at all. Auron and Braska rushed to his aid as he sat up, clutching his head. "Are you all right?" Braska asked.

Auron couldn't help himself. He focused the camera on Jecht, who looked more than a little annoyed that Auron was filming his plight. "Now there's a scene for posterity," Auron said.

"Yeah, yeah," Jecht muttered.

Braska burst into a round of uncontrollable laughter. Seeing him genuinely happy for the first time since they'd left for the pilgrimage made both Auron and Jecht smile. "What were you trying to do anyway?" Auron asked.

"To dodge a bolt of lightning," Jecht replied. "I wanted to show my kid, you know. I thought if I could dodge one bolt, why not a hundred? Why not two hundred?"

"That's impossible."

"And if you _could_ do it," Braska said, "you deserve an award of some kind."

"Maybe we can come back and try it once we defeat Sin."

"Yes," Braska said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Maybe."

To spare Braska from thinking about what would happen after he defeated Sin, Auron returned the sphere to Jecht and pulled himself together. "Let's keep moving. We're not safe out in the open like this."

"Yes," Braska agreed. "We're not far from Djose."

They resumed their pace and continued along the path to Djose—this time making sure they stayed near the towers.

* * *

By the time they reached the temple, it was close to sunset. It had taken them nearly all day to trek from Macalania to Djose, and when they finally stopped, they were all famished and exhausted. Braska, however, wouldn't stop until he obtained the aeon—which meant neither could Auron or Jecht.

"These temples are pretty neat," Jecht said, taking in the sight before him. High above the temple, rocks hovered in midair, suspended by an electromagnetic current.

"It means a summoner is already inside praying," Braska explained. "When no summoner is present, the rocks envelope the temple, making it look like the head of a mushroom. That's why we also call it the Lightning Mushroom Rock."

"So another summoner is already in there?" Jecht said. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Jecht set forward with Braska and Auron tagging along behind him. Before they reached the front door, the other summoner emerged with his guardian, who was a thin blonde woman. While the summoner was well-dressed, the entire left side of his face was terribly scarred, and he was blind in that eye. He didn't look like he was even a man yet. "Excuse me," he said, stepping out of Jecht's way. "I was just leaving."

"You are Summoner Kharis, are you not?" Braska asked as he approached.

"I am. I've come from Kilika. We've been traveling for almost a week now. This is my sister and my guardian, Lady Ayla."

"A pleasure to meet you both. Your name is famous across Spira."

"Is it?" Kharis grinned. "I try not to notice."

"How could you not?"

Kharis chuckled. "And you must be Summoner Braska. I've heard much about you, as well. And about your guardians." Smiling, he looked to Jecht again. "Are you the man from Zanarkand I've heard so much about?"

Jecht crossed his arms. "What of it?"

"I'm simply curious, that's all. You don't _look_ like a madman."

"Is that what they're calling me?"

"Among other things, but that's not important."

"Hmph."

"I must say, Braska," he went on, "you are an interesting group. But perhaps it's that peculiarity that will help you defeat Sin."

Braska bowed. "Thank you, friend. We may be an odd bunch, but I wouldn't ask for anyone else at my side."

"Nor should you. You seem to be doing well so far." He and Lady Ayla made their way past the group, stopping in the open space outside the temple to face Braska. "Perhaps you have time for a friendly duel to test our strengths?"

"I would be honored," Braska replied, removing his staff.

"My lord," Auron said, approaching Braska's side. "Are you sure this is wise?"

"It's a harmless duel," Braska said. "Besides, Jecht has been asking to see an aeon. Now's a perfect opportunity."

Auron reluctantly stepped back, taking his place at Jecht's side. Braska seemed to know what he was doing, so Auron would just have to relax. "Who is this guy anyway?" Jecht whispered to Auron.

"Summoner Kharis is the youngest person ever to become a summoner," Auron replied. "He's only fifteen years old, and already he has suffered so much. When Sin last appeared ten years ago, it destroyed his village in Kilika. A fire spread through the village, and Kharis, trapped inside his home, was nearly killed. The scar on his face is the souvenir he has from that day."

"Hm," Jecht said. "Tough luck."

"That's the life one lives in Spira, so long as Sin is still around."

Kharis lifted his staff high over his head. A beam of energy struck the staff, charging an electric current around the summoner. He twirled the staff around his body, then pointed it into the air. The beam of energy shot forward, as if pulling something out of an invisible pocket of existence.

In fact, that's exactly what was happening. Seemingly from nowhere, a ghostly horse emerged, beckoned by the energy coming from Kharis's staff. Once free from its confinement, it reared up on its hind legs and whinnied loudly. The tip of its horn surged with an electrical current as it stood by, awaiting its master's orders.

"What is _that_?" Jecht cried.

"That," Auron answered, "is an aeon."

"It's your turn, Braska," Kharis said. "Call your aeon."

Braska nodded and stepped back. With two hands, he lifted his staff toward the sky. Snowflakes appeared from nowhere, swirling around him. He sliced his staff through the air, and with it fell several large ice clusters. They dropped to the ground behind him. A shimmering, ghostly illusion of a woman floated down to the earth, landing among the ice crystals. She threw her head back and tossed aside the shawl wrapped around her neck, which Braska promptly caught. The ice burst to pieces, revealing a blue-skinned aeon in the form of a woman.

"That is the aeon Braska obtained in Macalania," Auron explained.

Jecht's eyes widened. "She's amazing."

Braska waved his staff, casting a protective spell over his aeon, Shiva. Kharis did the same for Ixion, and the two were ready to duel. At once, Shiva engaged.

She sprang into the air, waving her arm toward her opponent. A massive ice crystal dropped from the sky, nearly impaling Ixion, but he leapt out of the way in time. He retaliated by shooting an aerospark orb of energy at Shiva, but she, too, was faster. She lifted her arms over her head and a snowy halo of energy encompassed her in its protective cocoon.

"Kharis's aeon is strong," Auron muttered to Jecht, "but Braska's aeon is stronger."

"Course it is," Jecht replied. "It's Braska, after all."

Shiva advanced again, performing a spinning kick and striking Ixion in the face. The aeon fought back, slicing its horn at its opponent, but again, she was too quick. The duel went on like so for ten minutes before Shiva performed her overdrive attack.

Spinning in a circle, she cast a blast of snowy energy Ixion's way. She conjured an orb of ice, adding to the snow pile in which her opponent had become encased. She drew back, snapped her fingers, and the snowy ice pile shattered. Ixion reared back at the strike, then sank to his knees in defeat.

"He won!" Jecht cried.

Kharis approached his aeon's side, lifting a hand. "Stop. That is enough."

Braska bowed, then dismissed his aeon. Shiva sprang backwards, vanishing in a snowy haze.

"He beat him," Jecht said. "Didn't you say Kharis is one of the best of the best?"

"Yes," Auron said. "But don't get a big head. You'll make Braska look bad."

"Yeah, yeah. I won't. But…don't you think this is kind of a big deal?"

Auron gave him a small grin. "Yes, I do. Braska is stronger than anyone gives him credit for. He has what it takes to defeat Sin."

"As if there were any doubts about that," Jecht scoffed.

Kharis dismissed his fallen aeon, and the mighty beast disappeared in a swarm of pyreflies. Applauding, he approached Braska. "I'm impressed," he said. "You and your aeon are both quite powerful. I have no doubt that you are capable of defeating Sin."

Braska dipped his head. "Thank you, Kharis."

"I shall tell all I meet that Summoner Braska is a man of much strength and respect. Regardless of what happens with Sin, Spira should know your name."

He and his sister turned to leave Djose. "Thank you for sporting with me," he called over his shoulder. "I hope to see you again."

The three of them watched him leave. "Guy's got a lot on his plate, doesn't he?" Jecht asked.

"We all do," Braska answered. "Ever since the destruction of his village and the loss of his family when he was a boy, he swore he would defeat Sin. Every waking moment since then has been devoted to ridding Spira of Sin. He's more powerful than his age lets on."

"And yet you beat _him_ ," Jecht pointed out. "That means you must know what you're doing."

"I like to think so."

"Well, would you look at that?" Jecht muttered. "They're not all so bad."

"There are far too many Ivrans in the world," Auron said, "and not enough Kharises."

"And only one Braska," Jecht said, patting him on the back. "And that's all we need."

Braska smiled. "Let's go. We must meet our next aeon."

* * *

 **So since that was a fairly short chapter, I'll be posting chapter 10 on Sunday, 8/9. R &R please, and I'll see you at chapter 10!**


	10. Help From an Old Friend

**Welcome back, all! Onward to chapter 10...**

 **Reibunriinta: I'm glad you caught the nod toward the lightning dodging game. I mean, it wasn't very subtle, but you caught it. :) I don't think I ever dodged more than five or so myself.**

* * *

The following morning, the group left the Djose temple bright and early. With three aeons in his possession, Braska was well on his way, but he still had a long journey ahead of him. They all did.

"Where to now?" Jecht asked.

"Now we make our way to Besaid Island," Braska responded. "It's a few days away, so we'll have to take a ship to reach it."

"A ship, huh?" Jecht said. "I didn't have such a good experience last time."

"We'll be all right," Braska assured him. "Even if Sin comes, we will face it."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Auron added.

"It will take us a few days to reach Luca," Braska said. "That's where the ships dock."

"And where the blitzball stadium is, right?" Jecht asked.

Braska grinned. "Yes. Perhaps if there is time…"

"Lord Braska," Auron began.

"I said perhaps. We shall see. Until then, we're on foot the rest of the way."

Auron suddenly stopped walking. "Maybe not."

"Auron?" Braska asked, slowing his walk.

"Lord Braska, I believe General Kinoc patrols this section of the Mushroom Rock Road. If we can find him, he may be able to help us. We could possibly reach Luca more quickly."

Braska and Jecht exchanged glances. "It's worth a try," Jecht said with a shrug.

"Then lead the way, Auron," Braska said.

They followed the path straight ahead for another mile or so until they encountered a few warrior monks patrolling the road. At the sight of Lord Braska, they stood at attention. "Summoner," the lead guard declared. He turned to Auron. "And…Sir Auron."

"Gentlemen," Auron said, "we are looking for General Kinoc. Would you be able to show us the way?"

"He's overseeing some important duties right now," the guard replied. "He's quite busy."

"Too busy to assist a summoner? You wouldn't want to be responsible for impeding a summoner's pilgrimage, would you?"

The guards glanced at each other. "Well…no—"

"Then, please. Tell us where to find him. I may not serve Yevon anymore, but that doesn't mean I won't find Kinoc myself."

"O-Of course," the guard said. "Follow me."

The guard reluctantly led them down the path forking to the right. The mountains towered over them on their sides as they trekked across uneven, rocky ground. Down below, a dark, twisting cavern was shrouded in mist.

At the end of the passage stood an elevator anchored in the precipice. The guard came to a halt and faced them. "Take the lift to the next level. You'll find the General up there."

"Thank you," Braska said. They boarded the elevator and slowly made their way up. Jecht chuckled as they ascended to the upper level. "Look at you go, Auron. Not a man of Yevon anymore, yet you can still make 'em shake in their boots."

Auron held back a grin. "Well, we don't have time to waste. I'm sure Kinoc isn't too busy. Not for me."

"Can't wait to see _him_ again," Jecht muttered.

"Again?"

"Yeah. When they locked me up in Bevelle, he popped in to visit. Didn't care for him too much, but if he can help, then let's do it."

The elevator came to a stop and the three of them stepped off. Down the path a ways, they found several tents erected and hundreds of soldiers bustling about. The seas of Spira stretched endlessly in the distance. Three large man-of-wars sat at the shore, tied to the recently-built docks.

Jecht startled at the sight of two soldiers approaching on giant birds. "Halt!" the first guard ordered.

"What the heck is that thing?" Jecht said, taking a step back.

"A chocobo," Braska replied. The bird let out a whinny.

Auron stepped forward. "We are here to see General Kinoc."

The guard studied him for a moment. Auron knew what he was thinking: Auron didn't belong here. At last, he replied, sparing Auron the embarrassment. "He's making final preparations to dispatch the troops. We'll take you to him."

They followed the guards through the tents, around the armory, and past a group of praying soldiers. At the edge of the cliff, they found Kinoc poring over maps and documents spread across the table before him. He looked up as they approached. Once the confusion left him, he smiled. "Auron," he said, shaking his old friend's hand. "I know I said we'd see each other again soon, but I didn't expect it to be this soon."

"Forgive me," Auron said. "We were passing through and I thought of you."

"I'm glad you did."

"Do you have a few minutes?"

"Yes. A few. Let's move away from here." The four of them left Kinoc's station and followed him into a nearby empty tent, where he offered them places to sit and fresh water. "What brings you through this area?" Kinoc asked.

"I am accompanying Lord Braska on his pilgrimage," Auron replied.

"Ah. Summoner." Kinoc offered him the blessing of Yevon. "It is good to see you again."

"And you as well, General," Braska said, returning the blessing. "I'm sorry we arrived without prior notice."

"Don't apologize. Your presence is an honor." He looked to Jecht next, grinning. "You again."

"That's right," Jecht said, puffing out his chest. "Me again. I'm a guardian now. Not so crazy anymore, am I?"

Kinoc ignored him. "So what can I do for you gentlemen?"

"Perhaps you could provide us transportation to Luca," Auron replied. "It would save us a great deal of time."

Kinoc stroked his chin. "Transportation to Luca? What's in Luca?"

"We need to reach Besaid, actually. But Luca is a ship port."

Kinoc sighed and sank into the seat behind him. "I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you. We have chocobos, but the commanders are using them, and there aren't many."

"What about those ships docked out there?" Jecht said.

"Those are for the soldiers."

"I thought you'd been assigned to patrol Mushroom Rock Road," Auron said.

"Not necessarily. I've been assigned a brigade of soldiers and was sent here. Initially, I meant to stay on Mushroom Rock Road, but Maester Mika gave me these men to do as I would with them."

"And what do you plan to do, if I may ask?"

Kinoc narrowed his eyes, as if Auron had no right to ask. Technically, he didn't, but Auron knew he wouldn't withhold information. "I have two thousand soldiers at my command," he said. "I'm going to divide them up and send them elsewhere. One ship will patrol the shores outside of Bevelle, another will patrol Besaid, and the last will patrol Kilika. The remaining five hundred soldiers will stay here after all."

"What do you need to send them out to sea for anyway?" Jecht asked.

"Sin always comes through the sea, and it likes seaside villages. Besaid and Kilika are most susceptible, but Bevelle, being Yevon's capital, requires additional attention. Of course, I cannot abandon the Mushroom Rock Road, so some must stay here and patrol the passage."

"If you're sending one of those ships to Besaid, then we can go with them," Jecht said.

"I'm sorry, but no. It will be a dangerous journey, and most of them might not make it back."

"Then why send them at all?"

"Because that is their job. They are responsible for protecting the citizens of Spira. They know what is at risk."

"Hmph. Kinda seems like you're using them as bait more than anything."

"Well, Sir Jecht, when you command an army, we'll see how well you strategize your troops. Until then, I'd appreciate your restraint."

Jecht opened his mouth to argue, but Auron stepped forward. "Let us board the ship with them. You don't have to worry about us, Kinoc."

"With a summoner aboard, the men might feel more at ease," Braska added. "Not only will my presence boost their morale, I can also assist in the event that something does happen."

"And then what?" Kinoc asked. "Get dragged down to the bottom of the ocean with them? It is unwise, Summoner Braska. Spira needs you for more than just overseeing the soldiers. That is what I'm here for."

"They stand a better chance at surviving with us there," Braska replied. "Please, General. You would be doing us a great favor by speeding us along on our journey. We can reach Zanarkand that much faster, and defeat Sin that much faster."

"Besides," Jecht interrupted. "What's to stop us from getting on that ship even if you say no?"

"Two thousand armed soldiers. That's what."

"You wouldn't dare. He's a summoner. He's got a job to do."

"And you are about to cost him if you refuse to hold your tongue."

For once, Jecht backed down on his own accord. He turned and left the tent without muttering a word on his way out.

"With all due respect, Lord Braska," Kinoc said, "I don't know why you chose that brute as a guardian."

"As you said, we shouldn't question your methods. You shouldn't question ours either."

"You're right." Kinoc rose to his feet and crossed his arms, sighing. "Fine. If you want on that ship so badly, I will grant you passage. It seems you're determined to reach Besaid in any way possible, and I'd rather you do it safely, with my permission."

Both Braska and Auron bowed deeply. "Thank you, General," Braska said. "And you should know that we appreciate your concern. Please don't worry about our wellbeing."

"But I will," Kinoc said. "I hope you truly are capable of what you claim, Lord Braska. If you encounter Sin along your journey, you're on your own."

Braska bowed one last time. "I have faith in our abilities."

Kinoc headed for the exit, holding the flap of the tent open for Braska and Auron. "Let's go. I'll walk you to the ship."

Outside the tent, Jecht reunited with them, and together the group headed for the elevator lift. At the ground level, Braska and Jecht set forward, but Auron lingered behind with Kinoc. "You two go on ahead," Auron insisted. "I'll be right there."

"Make it fast," Jecht said. "We'll be waiting."

Once they disappeared, Auron turned to his old friend. "Thanks for everything, Kinoc."

Kinoc nodded. "I know I don't need to tell you this, but guard Lord Braska well."

"That I will. And you'll be busy, too. I've heard they made you second-in-command."

Kinoc looked away. "You know that promotion was meant for you. You were always the better one—even until the end."

Auron chuckled. "You make it sound as if I was going off to die or something. I will see you again."

"Yes," Kinoc said.

Auron didn't know what else to say. This time, it might really be a while before they reunited. "Well, then…"

"Going already?" Kinoc asked.

Auron nodded.

"You will tell me about Zanarkand when you return, won't you?"

"Yes," Auron said. He set forward after the others, stopping for just a moment. "Farewell."

He continued along the path and didn't look back.

* * *

 **And there you have it. Auron's sphere.**

 **All right, ladies and gents. It was another short chapter so I'll be posting chapter 11 (a fairly long one) on Friday, 8/14. Things are going to really start to shake up! See you then!**


	11. Full Speed Ahead

**Hello everyone, and happy Friday! Read on for some juicy stuff!**

* * *

Auron awakened to the constant sound of thumping and banging. Opening his eyes, he took in the sight of Jecht just a few yards away on the deck of the S.S. Liki, juggling a blitzball between his feet, then bouncing it against the wall in front of him.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Jecht, must you do that so early in the morning?"

Jecht glanced his way and scowled, but he collected the ball a moment later. He carried it in the crook of his arm and walked over to Auron. "Nice nap?"

"It's not like we have anything to do at the moment," Auron said, rising. "Where's Braska?"

"Upstairs talking to the captain."

"About what?"

"Sin, I think. And what to do if it's spotted." He dropped the ball to the ground and began juggling it again. "Captain says we should reach Besaid by late afternoon."

Auron did his best to ignore the ball. "How long have we been at sea?"

"Almost a full day now. Thankfully it's almost over."

"Could you please stop playing with that ball?"

Jecht stopped for the second time, placing his foot on top of the ball to keep it still. "It keeps me distracted," he said.

"Well, if you're so bored, why don't you try getting some rest?"

"It's not the boredom that's the problem."

The rolling waves and the rocking of the ship put it into perspective. "Oh. You're worried about being at sea."

"I ain't worried about nothing," Jecht snapped. "I'd just…rather not think about my last adventure. That's all."

"We'll be fine," Auron assured him. "Sin has nothing on us, especially with Lord Braska around."

Jecht sighed. "Yeah. I know."

"Try not to think about it." Auron gazed out to sea, allowing the cool breeze to rush over him. "Soon enough, we'll reach Zanarkand, and you'll be on your way home."

"Hm," Jecht said. "It seems so far away at this point."

"Braska will keep his promise."

"It's not Braska I doubt," Jecht said. "It's whether or not it's actually possible to get back after all."

"We'll find a way."

Suddenly, Jecht started laughing. "Well, what do you know? You believe me after all."

Auron narrowed his eyes, but had nothing to say. What was he supposed to believe anyway? Braska was so convinced that Jecht was indeed from Zanarkand, so how could Auron not feel the same way? And despite his abrasiveness, Jecht wasn't so that bad after all. He seemed to care for Braska and his cause. He believed in what he didn't understand. Auron knew he ought to at least try to do the same.

"Good morning," Braska called, coming around the corner.

"Good morning, my lord," Auron replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you." He approached the railing and peered out at the water. "The Captain tells me no one has seen Sin anywhere recently. Not him, and not any other ships at sea."

"Is that good or bad?" Jecht asked.

"Could be either," Braska replied. "For now, though, we'll just have to be on alert. We're not so far from Besaid. If luck is on our side, we won't encounter Sin at all."

"That's a relief. Oh, hey!" Jecht removed a sphere from his pocket and gave it to Auron, much to Auron's chagrin. He approached the railing and crossed his arms. "Get a shot of us at sea. My kid loves the sea."

"Does he?" Braska asked.

"Yeah. He takes after his old man on that one."

"You must miss him."

Instead of responding, Jecht turned and gazed out at sea. "After you get that aeon from Besaid, where are we going?"

"Back the way we came," Braska answered. "Then we go north from Bevelle and climb Mount Gagazet."

"Beyond it lies Zanarkand," Auron added.

"Zanarkand, huh?" Jecht said. "It's been in ruins for a thousand years, right?"

"So the legends say," Auron replied. "No one knows for sure. It still could be your Zanarkand."

Jecht turned away from the camera. "Thanks for trying, Auron." Taking a seat at the edge of the deck, he gazed out at the ocean and sighed. "I thought if I went with you guys, I might find a way to go back."

Braska, feeling totally helpless, looked away. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, Braska. It's not your fault. I should be thinking about fighting Sin now, anyway. Zanarkand can wait, but I _will_ find my way back."

"Be careful, Jecht," Braska warned.

"Hey, I'll be all right. You're the one that should be careful. Wouldn't want your little girl to cry."

"She'll be all right," Braska said, approaching the railing alongside his guardian. "She's strong, like her mother was."

Auron had almost forgotten that he was still shooting. He turned off the sphere and hid it in his pocket. Some conversations didn't need to be recorded.

Almost as soon as he did, something massive rocked the boat. Auron tumbled to the ground, rolling head over heels toward the edge of the ship as it lifted into the air on its starboard side. He caught the railing just in time before the sea was able to swallow him.

"Auron!" Jecht screamed, clutching onto the railing across from Auron. "Braska went overboard!"

"I'm going after him!"

"No, I will! You take care of things topside!"

Before Auron could protest, Jecht let go of the railing, took a running leap, and dived over the edge into the water. Sea creatures of every shape, size, and color scattered. Only a few feet away, an unconscious Braska sank toward the ocean floor with blood oozing from a fresh wound on his forehead. Jecht swam with all his might, but Braska was sinking too quickly.

At last, Jecht reached him. Braska's robe was so heavy that it threatened to drag them both down. Even so, Jecht pushed forward. His lungs felt like they would burst. His heart pounded. His vision blurred. If he wasn't such a good swimmer thanks to all his years playing blitzball, he might've drowned along with Braska.

Jecht burst through the surface of the water, gasping for air. Struggling to keep Braska afloat, he waved up at Auron. "Get us outta here!"

Auron vanished to go find something to pull them from the water, but as it turned out, it wasn't necessary. Something hard appeared underneath Jecht's feet, lifting both him and Braska toward the sky. At the same time, it nudged the boat, rocking it on its port side. Auron struggled to keep his grip once more.

The creature beneath them continued to rise. Jecht took Braska by both arms and threw himself forward, landing on the deck below with a painful thud. Fortunately, he was able to cushion most of the blow for Braska, but the pain was so intense that he blacked out for a few seconds.

Auron staggered to their aid, turning the summoner over on his back. All around them, soldiers appeared on the scene. "Sin!" they screamed. "Sin is here!"

Auron ignored the chaos and pumped Braska's chest until he returned to life. Spitting up water, he shot up straight and gasped for air. Jecht collected himself and rose to his feet. "We've gotta get Braska outta here!"

"No," Braska said, his voice hoarse. "We must help."

"My lord, you're badly injured," Auron protested.

"It doesn't matter, Auron. This is why we're here." He wearily pushed himself to his feet and removed his staff. Sin had moved to the front of the ship and was now facing it head-on, as if challenging them to strike first. Jecht was so stunned that he couldn't move.

The last time he'd seen Sin, everything had happened so fast that he hadn't been able to process what was going on, let alone what the giant beast actually was. Now, though, he knew without a doubt that _this_ was Sin. _This_ was the creature that the people of Spira lived in fear of each day. _This_ was what Braska would have to defeat.

"You heard him!" Auron cried, pulling him out of his trance. "We're going to fight! Arm yourself!"

"With _what_?" Jecht replied.

Auron took a look around, but there were no weapons available and Jecht's sword which he'd purchased in Bevelle before their departure was below deck with the rest of their stuff—which was a complete rookie move, if Auron had a say in it.

His eye caught sight of something blue and white. "That," he said, pointing.

"The blitzball? Are you crazy?"

"You said you're the best blitzer in Zanarkand. Now's the time to prove it!"

He didn't have much of a choice. Jecht snatched the blitzball from the corner to where it had rolled and joined Braska and Auron at the edge of the deck.

"What's the plan, Summoner?" a soldier asked, braced to attack.

"You're telling me Kinoc sent you out here without a plan?" Jecht demanded.

"We're expendable," the soldier replied. "The plan was to distract Sin if necessary, and…well, that's what we're doing."

"Your lives are not expendable to me," Braska said. "Line yourselves up along the port and starboard railings. Fend off anything that comes from the sides. We will take the mast."

"Yes, sir!" The soldiers scurried away, stationing themselves as Braska ordered. Suddenly, the ship rocked again. This time, everyone was able to brace before going over the edge. "My lord!" the soldier cried. "Something is beneath us!"

As if on cue, several tentacles sprang up on the sides of the ship. The soldiers opened fire, though some of them were yanked out from under their feet and ripped off the deck.

"A Sinspawn!" Auron said. "That must be why Sin is here!"

"Sin always comes back for the Sinspawn," Braska told Jecht.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Jecht demanded. "Let's kill it!"

"If we kill it, Sin will attack _us_ ," Auron argued. "We can only defend ourselves and break away as quickly as possible."

"It has us in its clutches," Braska said. He approached a nearby soldier. "Run and tell the captain that as soon as we free ourselves from the Sinspawn, it's full speed ahead for Besaid."

As soon as the soldier departed, the tentacles sprang forth for a second attack. Braska waved his hand, casting a fire spell to stall the Sinspawn's strike momentarily. The tentacles sank back into the sea, presumably injured.

At last, the Sinspawn itself made its appearance at the mast of the ship. A long, rigid body emerged from the water, with scales covering it from top to bottom. The head was covered in a blossoming fungus, making it almost look like a flower—with fangs.

It let out a breath of green venom, but Braska was faster. He raised his staff overhead, and the venom evaporated as it met the invisible shield Braska had created.

All around the ship, the tentacles resurged once more. The soldiers fired, and again, some were dragged away screaming. The Sinspawn opened its mouth to release its venom again, but Jecht hurled the blitzball at its face just in time. The ball smacked it hard, then rebounded back to Jecht's hands. The Sinspawn let out an angry cry and shook its head. In its moment of agony, its tentacles lost their grip on the ship.

"That's it!" Braska cried. "Aim for the head!"

"You two handle the head," Auron said. "I'll help the soldiers!"

Braska and Jecht moved in on the Sinspawn's body while Auron and the soldiers hacked, slashed, and fired at the tentacles. On each side of the ship, five tentacles swung and slapped, striking the soldiers dead at times and leaving huge holes in the deck at others. Auron skillfully dodged each incoming strike and retaliated with a swing at the attacking tentacle.

Jecht and Braska alternated between launching the ball at the Sinspawn's head and casting black magic spells. With each shot, the Sinspawn loosened its grip, and in that time the captain inched the ship out of the beast's grasp.

Finally, the Sinspawn seemed to be giving up. Its tentacles released the ship completely and its body sank into the ocean with a shrill cry. The captain launched the ship full speed ahead as commanded, sailing away from the creature.

"Hold your fire!" Braska ordered.

All went still and silent as they sailed away from the battle site. Sin watched from the distance, making no movements. It could completely annihilate the ship if it wanted, so what was it waiting for?

"I think that's it," Jecht breathed. "We did it."

Braska, however, didn't seem so sure. He didn't take his eyes off the horizon, as if he was waiting for something.

The silence was broken by the tentacles springing up in the air for their last attack. Jecht cocked his arm back, preparing to strike, but one of the tentacles swept him up from under his feet and lifted him into the air.

"Jecht!" Auron shouted, but Braska had it handled. He swung his staff high over his head, then sliced it through the air, casting a holy spell on the enemy. The tentacles shriveled and released Jecht, who dropped hard onto the deck of the ship, falling unconscious. The tentacles came down one last time, taking out a huge chunk of the deck along the way. Finally, the Sinspawn sank into the depths for good.

Auron rushed to Jecht's side, feeling for a pulse. "He's not breathing."

"Stand aside," Braska ordered. With Auron out of the way, Braska waved his staff over Jecht's body, and Jecht returned to life. He sat up with a gasp, clutching his head and blinking. "What…what happened?"

"You died," Braska said.

"I _what_?"

"Never mind it. You're alive now."

Jecht wearily stood up and surveyed the damage alongside his peers. The ship barely puttered along. The Sinspawn had damaged the ship so badly, it was a wonder it was still functioning. Many soldiers lay dead or wounded along the deck. Only a few were able to walk, and those that could tended to their injured comrades.

"What a mess," Jecht muttered. "Hey, Braska. If you brought me back from the dead, can't you do it for them?"

"My magic isn't strong enough to revive that many people," Braska admitted sadly.

"Oh." Not knowing what else to say, they remained rooted to the ground, watching the scene before them and feeling completely helpless.

Jecht turned and looked out at Sin. For a moment, he felt as if the beast was looking straight at him. Was it possible that the thing could feel and think, or was it just a mindless brute that destroyed whatever lay in its path?

"What's it waiting for?" Jecht said.

Braska approached his side. "I wish I knew."

"Why isn't it attacking us?"

"Be thankful that it isn't," Auron said.

"Yeah, but…"

"Let's not think about it," Braska said. "We're far enough away now."

At last, Sin turned away and sank into the ocean. In just a short moment, it vanished completely, as if it was never there in the first place.

Jecht crossed his arms and shook his head. "It just came out of nowhere."

"Sin is capable of many things," Braska replied. "Moving quickly is one of them."

"And no one spotted it on its way here?"

"If they didn't, we should be thankful. It means Sin didn't attack any villages or injure anyone. Let's hope it disappears for a while."

A soldier clutching his bloody arm approached Braska. "Summoner," he said. "We lost many. Would you…perform the sending?"

"Of course," Braska said. He removed his staff and stepped to the center of the deck, facing the mass of bodies lying about the ship. There must've been at least a hundred dead, and another two hundred who were swept off to sea by the Sinspawn. Those lost to the ocean would certainly become fiends. This was the least Braska could do.

In fluid, hypnotic movements, Braska repeatedly swept the staff over his head and across his chest, almost as if he were dancing. Jecht watched as the bodies of the fallen soldiers vanished into clouds of pyreflies, ascending toward the heavens. It was bothersome and disturbing, something he wished he didn't have to see. "What's going on?" he whispered to Auron.

"Lord Braska is sending the souls of the dead to the Farplane," he replied quietly. "Those who aren't sent after death become fiends, while some may go on walking the Earth, alive but not technically."

Once the last of the fallen soldiers had been sent, Braska stopped dancing and put away his staff. He did not move for the longest moment. He only stared straight ahead, watching the pyreflies flitter away. Though Auron and Jecht were at his back, they knew something troubled him without needing to see his face.

Jecht approached his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You all right, Braska?"

After a moment, Braska looked away. "Yes."

"You know, you did all you could do. If you hadn't been here, more of them would've passed."

"Still, it is not enough."

"It is for now."

Braska turned toward his guardians, his face devoid of emotion and his eyes empty. "This is the destruction that Sin causes," he said. "This is what we must destroy. Many brave men lost their lives today. How many more must pass?"

"Jecht is right, Lord Braska," Auron said. "You did all you could. We will go to Zanarkand, and you _will_ defeat Sin."

Braska turned away. "Yes. Yes, we will."

* * *

 **And there you have it. Kinoc was right all along.**

 **Okay everyone! See you on Friday, 8/21! We'll be seeing some familiar faces once more. :)**


	12. Message From Beyond

**Back again, everyone! I'm posting a little early once again. I've found it's just easier to post late Thursday night than early Friday morning while I'm rushing off to work.**

 **Read on! Things are going to get serious...**

* * *

The S.S. Liki barely reached the shores of Besaid intact. By the time it docked, it was hardly able to stay afloat.

The soldiers who survived wearily made their way off the boat, some keeping it together and others collapsing as soon as their boots reached the ground. Auron, Jecht, and Braska were the last to emerge. Since the Sinspawn's attack, Braska had been all too quiet. Neither Jecht nor Auron knew what to say, so in turn, they remained silent, too.

The shores of Besaid were empty. There were no ship attendants or anyone there to welcome them. "Where is everyone?" Jecht asked.

"Besaid is a small village," Auron replied. "Unlike Bevelle, most of the people here lead fairly simple lives."

"You've been here before?"

"My work for Yevon has taken me throughout Spira—except to Gagazet and Zanarkand, of course."

"Well, there's a first time for everything." Jecht set forward, following after the soldiers and waving his friends along. "Come on! We've gotta get to the temple."

Auron and Braska headed after the others. "Are you all right, Lord Braska?"

Braska looked at him, forcing a smile. "I'm just fine."

"Are you still thinking about the soldiers?" Auron asked. "You cannot beat yourself up over it. You did a fine job. Look how many men survived."

"You're right, Auron. I only wish I could've done more."

"You will, once you defeat Sin."

Braska smiled. "Your faith is uplifting, my friend. And you're right—we should not dwell in the past. The people look to us for guidance. We must remain in high spirits."

Auron hoped he had truly swayed Braska's mind, that he wasn't just telling Auron what he wanted to hear. Braska was already taking the weight of the world upon himself—he could not punish himself for those he was unable to save.

"So if our ship is too wrecked to sail," Jecht said as the others caught up to him, "how do we get back?"

"We'll find a way," Auron promised. "Perhaps we'll swim."

"Or take a shoopuf," Braska laughed.

"What's a shoopuf?"

"An elephant-like creature that transports people across bodies of water," Auron replied.

"Hm," Jecht said. "I think I prefer to swim."

"They're perfectly safe," Braska assured him.

The group wound their way through the trees, past ruined buildings and a lake, and over the green hills. After twenty minutes or so of trekking, at last they discovered civilization.

"Auron?" Jecht said. "Could you—?"

"Yes, yes," Auron sighed, removing the sphere. "I already know what you're going to ask."

Jecht grinned and gazed out at the small village before them. The cobblestone path led into the village and beyond the huts on either side, stopping at the steps leading up to the temple. The residents walking about stopped to assist the injured soldiers.

"Smallest heap of huts I've ever seen," Jecht muttered.

"Ah," Braska said. "That looks like a fine place to live." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Auron?"

"My lord?"

"When this is over, could you bring Yuna here? I want her to lead a life away from this conflict."

Auron couldn't say no. It was the absolute least he could do for Braska. "You have my word. I will bring her here."

"Thank you, Auron. You're a good friend."

"What are you guys doing?" Jecht called from several yards away. "I'm so hungry, I could eat a shoopuf whole!"

Braska chuckled. "Sorry. Well, let's go then."

Many of the villagers led the soldiers away to help them. Some even brought out stretchers and carried the critically injured ones away. An older woman with gray hair and big blue eyes approached Braska and offered him the blessing of Yevon. "Summoner," she said. "What an honor to have you. It seems your travels were rather distressing."

"To say the least," Braska replied. "We encountered a Sinspawn along the way, hence the damage to our ship and the injured soldiers. We were barely able to reach Besaid."

"Oh, my," she gasped. "Praise be to Yevon that you are still alive."

"Thank you."

"You are here to pray at the temple, are you not?"

"I am. But recovery is in order first. Perhaps you could show us where to find food?"

"Of course," she said. "I don't imagine you have a place to stay?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Then come with me. I'll see to it that you three are fed and taken care of."

"You're too kind," Braska said. "I didn't catch your name, madam."

"I am Ygrainne," she answered. "I've lived my entire life in Besaid."

"A pleasure to meet you."

They followed the old woman through the village to one of the larger huts at the end of the road. Inside, they found two teenagers and a small boy. The girl had a wary look in her red eyes, like she didn't trust these strangers. She was maybe fourteen years old—far too young to be so distrusting. The teenage boy was less reserved. His red-orange hair was slicked back into a Mohawk, and he looked as if he'd barely begun to put on muscle. He smiled at the guests.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need," Ygrainne said. "These three won't bother you."

"Hello, there," Braska said to the children. "I am Summoner Braska, from Bevelle."

"A summoner?" the young boy asked, eyes wide. "Whoa!"

"That's right," Braska chuckled. "What's your name?"

"I'm Chappu."

"Lovely to meet you, Chappu. And who are your friends?"

The older boy stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Lord Braska, my name is Wakka. It's an honor to meet you."

"He's my brother," Chappu explained. "He taught me how to play blitzball!"

"Blitzball, huh?" Jecht said. "I like you already, kid."

"You play?" Wakka asked.

Jecht laughed. "Son, I don't just _play_ blitzball—I live it."

"And he's quite excellent, too," Braska added. "The best around."

"Maybe…maybe we can play if you have time," Wakka sheepishly suggested.

"Yeah," Jecht said. "Maybe."

"And this," Ygrainne said, steering the young girl forward, "is Lulu."

Lulu bowed. Her long black hair tumbled over her shoulders. "My lord," she said quietly. For being so young, she came across as much older. Perhaps she had already seen too much of the world.

"Why don't you children fetch some things from Bassill's so the summoner and his guardians can eat?"

"Yes, ma'am," Wakka said. "Lulu, let's go. Come on, Chap."

The three of them left to go find food. Braska turned to the old woman. "Are they family?"

"No," she replied. "Orphans. Sin took their families long ago. But we look after each other here in Besaid. They will be just fine."

"They're lucky to have you, as well as each other."

She smiled. "Feel free to rest. There are plenty of beds available. We'll prepare lunch shortly. Until then, make yourselves at home." With a bow, Ygrainne left.

"A lovely place, no?" Braska asked, facing his guardians.

"Too quiet for me," Jecht said. "But it's not so bad."

"We won't be here long," Braska said. "Perhaps we can find a way to repair the ship. In the meantime, enjoy yourselves. We'll go to the temple after we eat and rest."

Jecht liked the sound of that. He felt like they hadn't taken a break since they'd left Bevelle. Even if there wasn't much to do in Besaid, at least he could kick back for the time being. "I think I'll take you up on that offer," he said, stretching out on one of the nearby cots. "I could definitely use some shut-eye. Wake me when the food is ready."

"Of course," Braska said. "I think I'll go pray in the temple. Excuse me."

"Do you want company, Lord Braska?" Auron offered.

"No, Auron. Thank you. I need some time alone."

Auron did his best to hide the hurt. "Yes, my lord."

Braska left the tent. In his wake, it was completely silent except for the voices outside and the chirping birds. Auron wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Every minute had been spent at Braska's side, and now he didn't want him there. He couldn't just _relax_ —that didn't come naturally to him. How could Jecht do it so easily?

"It's all right, Auron," Jecht said, his eyes still closed and his head leaned back on his hands.

"What?" Auron asked.

"He's just preoccupied, that's all. It's nothing against you."

"What makes you think…?"

Jecht chuckled. "You're the kinda guy who likes to have a job to do. It's all right if you take time to sit down. Braska isn't going anywhere."

"How very insightful of you." He tried to be sarcastic about it, but it _was_ rather perceptive—especially coming from Jecht.

"I ain't as dumb as I look," Jecht said.

"And what about you?" Auron asked. "How can you be so carefree about all this?"

"You think I'm carefree?"

"You seem like it."

"I wish I could say I was," Jecht sighed. "I'm not. But there's no use worrying over it. I can't go anywhere right now, so why think about it? I'd rather just close my eyes and sleep away the time."

Auron sat on the edge of the next cot beside Jecht. "What about when you return to Zanarkand?"

"What about it?"

"Well, won't you…I don't know…think about your time in Spira? About us?"

At last, Jecht opened his eyes and sat up. "Are you asking if I'm gonna miss you?"

"I suppose. I just wonder if this is only a job to you, or if you actually care."

"Course I care. I care about Braska. I care about you. But I'm going home no matter what happens. I have to."

"It's just that…well, when we reach Zanarkand…" If there was ever a time to tell Jecht the truth about the Final Summoning, it was now, when they had the time—not later, when it would be too late for him to process it.

"What is it?" Jecht asked.

"The Final Summoning. Braska will…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Spit it out."

"Never mind." Auron shook his head and stood up.

"Hey, now! You were gonna say something. What is it?"

"It's nothing." Auron headed for the exit, stopping just before leaving. "You should definitely leave when the opportunity arises. Spira after Sin's defeat will be…well, different."

"Yeah, but a good different."

"Of course." Auron threw the tent flap open and marched outside, feeling all too cowardly for not telling Jecht the truth.

* * *

Braska knelt at the statue of Lady Yocun, the last High Summoner to defeat Sin. He wished he could ask her how she'd done it—not how she'd defeated Sin, but how she'd held it together long enough to reach Zanarkand. Braska had begun to think it wasn't possible.

He wouldn't tell this to anyone else—not even Auron or Jecht—but he wanted to quit. He wanted to go back to Bevelle, back to his daughter, and back to his normal life. Seeing all those people die, men with whom he'd traveled and fought, was more than he could bear. Sending them had been even worse. Why had he ever chosen this path for himself?

He wanted to stay in Besaid. Perhaps he would have Auron fetch Yuna and bring her here. They'd live in the village until Braska passed from old age. Yuna would be at his bedside. He would live a full, happy life. No expectations. No one telling him he couldn't. No…nothing. Why couldn't another summoner finish the job for him?

There was no one else in the temple, much to his liking. It meant he could break down for a moment and no one would have to see. He wanted to pray—he _tried_ to pray—but he just couldn't fake it. Right now, he just wanted to be Braska. Not Summoner Braska, not Spira's savior—just Braska.

But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. This was the path he'd chosen for himself. What kind of example would he set for Yuna if he quit now? Things were always easier in hindsight, but when it came down to it, it took true strength and resilience to actually follow through. The only thing worse than losing was quitting. Braska understood all this. He would only have to adhere to it.

He gave the blessing of Yevon to Lady Yocun's statue and stood up. Now was not the time to get cold feet. Now was the time to stand firm. He drew in a deep breath and marched toward the exit.

Auron was right—Braska would defeat Sin. There was no other option.

* * *

When Jecht awakened, the tent was dark. Night had fallen, and there wasn't a sound to be heard. He sat up and found the tent to be completely empty—no Auron, no Braska, nothing. Not even the orphans who lived there were around. Where was everyone?

Jecht stood up and threw open the tent flap, but he found he was not in Besaid. He had returned to Zanarkand, as if he had never left in the first place. The tall buildings, the lights, the blitzball stadium—it was all there. Everything would've been just right if not for the dead silence and lack of anyone around.

To top things off, he wasn't just in Zanarkand. He was on the patio right outside his home. The sea rolled before him, as peaceful as it had always been before that fateful day of Sin's arrival. A single light in the kitchen had been left on, as his wife always did when he came home late. Everything was in its natural state. He was really home.

But how? Last he remembered, he'd lain down to nap. How had he gone from that to _this_?

 _Who cares?_ he thought. _I'm home. That's what matters._

He set forward, ready to throw open the door and find his wife and kid, but a voice behind him stopped him. "What are you doing?"

Jecht turned around to find a young boy in a purple hood with a gold wheel on his back. "Who are you?" he demanded. "And…where did you come from?"

"You don't recognize me?" the boy asked. "I am the fayth."

Jecht laughed. "Yeah. Right."

"I'm glad to see you are still doing well. At least besides this." He gestured at the area around him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You can't let go of the past," the fayth pointed out. "You're dreaming. This isn't real."

Jecht's heart sank. Of course he knew this was a dream, but it had felt so real. For just a moment, he'd thought all his troubles were over. "You think I don't know that?" he snapped.

"Don't be afraid. It will end soon."

"If this isn't real, can you just get outta here so I can pretend it is for another minute?"

The fayth shook his head. "I'm sorry. We have work to do."

"What work?"

"I've actually come to you for help. I feel I should explain."

"An explanation, huh?" Jecht snorted. "That's long overdue."

"We fayth are dreaming, too," he said. "It is you. You and your Zanarkand, and everything that is a part of it."

"What are you saying?" Jecht asked. "I'm not real?"

After a moment, the fayth shook his head. "No."

Jecht laughed. "That's a load of crap if I've heard it."

"It is true, Jecht," he replied. "You are the key to breaking the cycle. It was no coincidence that Sin brought you to Spira. You were chosen for a reason."

"Why me?" Jecht demanded, crossing his arms.

"Because you can stop Sin. You _must_ stop Sin."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"That is for you to learn," the fayth answered. "You are the link between Zanarkand and Spira, thus you have the power to end our dreaming, and to bring peace to Spira. Defeat Sin and allow us to finally rest."

"Why should I help you?" Jecht said. "Braska will defeat Sin, and once he does, I'm going home."

"The cycle will only continue," the fayth insisted. "Sin always returns because the summoners use the same method. It is an honorable attempt, but futile nonetheless."

Jecht blinked. "The Final Summoning. Are you telling me it won't work?"

"It will not last. Sin will return, and all the suffering will be for naught. We cannot truly stop dreaming until Sin has been destroyed. Only then will Spira find peace."

Jecht shook his head and took a step back. "This is ridiculous. You want _me_ to stop Sin? No way!" He brushed past the fayth, stopping just outside the door to his home. "Braska's got it handled. And once he calls the Final Aeon, it'll all be over, and I can go home."

"There is no way home, Jecht."

He shook his head again. "I don't believe you."

Jecht reached for the door but his hand slipped through, as if the door, and everything around him, was a ghostly illusion. He reached for it again, but the same thing happened. He jerked his head toward the fayth. "You're doing this, aren't you?"

"I told you. None of this exists—not in your dream or even in reality."

He reached for the door several more times, hoping something different would happen, but it didn't. He faced the fayth, his chest heaving. "This is all _your_ fault!" He charged toward the boy to tackle him but instead, he went right through him, collapsing to the ground. He shook it off and sat up, facing the boy. The fayth stared at him with sad, sorrowful eyes. "I know it hurts," he said. "It won't be like this forever."

Jecht could only stare at him. He suddenly felt so weak, so out of control. A thousand thoughts danced through his mind, none of which made sense.

How could he not be real? He was as real as anyone else, as real as Braska and Auron and Kinoc. The fayth had to be lying to him.

And yet, when he looked down at his hands, he found himself disappearing, fading away just like the dead men Braska had sent. He could see through himself. Jecht looked to the fayth for guidance, but the boy had vanished. "What am I supposed to do?" he breathed.

The fayth's voice echoed in his head:

 _You must defeat Sin._

* * *

 **And now the fun is over for Jecht. :(**

 **Okay, everyone! Reviews are much appreciated as always. Thank you to my regular patrons and my new followers! I'll see you all on Thursday night, Pacific Standard Time! (I'm in California...so I'll probably post around 10 pm. Ha.)**


	13. Day Off

**Back again! Is it just me, or does a full week feel a lot longer than that?**

 **Anyway, this is a rather cheerful chapter, which I think our heroes could use. Read on!**

* * *

"We have a surprise for you," Ygrainne told Auron the next morning during breakfast.

Braska had gone to pray in the temple again—something he'd been doing a lot of lately—and Jecht had gone out for a morning walk, leaving Auron on his own with Ygrainne and the orphans. At first, he dreaded the thought of being left alone with children. It wasn't that he didn't like kids, he just didn't know how to act around them. But fortunately for him, they were well-behaved and didn't bother anyone but each other.

Since Braska had been keeping to himself for the past day or so, Auron found himself restless. Jecht wasn't much company, since he spent most of his time sleeping anyway, and when he wasn't doing that, he was off doing who-knows-what. Without someone to guard or something to do, Auron didn't know how to pass the time. He hoped this surprise Ygrainne had was something he could make do with—at least for however long they had left on the island. "And what is that?" Auron asked.

"Well," the old woman said, "last night and early this morning, many of the villagers came together and repaired your ship."

Auron lowered the bowl of oatmeal in his hands. "What?"

"That's right," Ygrainne said, smiling. "It's nowhere near in the condition it was before the Sinspawn attacked, but it will get you at least to Luca."

"You repaired it?" Auron asked, dumbfounded. "Overnight?"

"We sure did," Wakka chipped in. "Chap and I even helped."

"Does Lord Braska know about this?"

"Not yet," Ygrainne replied. "When you see him next, be sure to let him know."

"I certainly will."

"So you're really leaving then, ya?" Wakka asked. "Are you gonna come back anytime soon?"

Auron stirred his oatmeal, avoiding the boy's gaze. "Lord Braska has asked that I bring his daughter here after he defeats Sin."

"He has a daughter?" Lulu asked.

"Yes. She's in Bevelle now, at the temple with the priests. It is no life for a child to be raised day in and day out in a temple, with people she doesn't know. She needs stability in her life, and friends. I think Lord Braska knows she will find that here."

"Besaid may be a small island," Ygrainne said, "but stability and friendship are not in short supply. We're never bothered by the temple politics, and we live the way we want for the most part—so long as it adheres to the teachings of Yevon."

"Of course," Auron nodded. "Braska could see that as soon as he set foot on the island. And I see it, too. If she has to be anywhere but home, Besaid is as good as anything."

"She'll love it here," Chappu said through a mouthful of eggs. "I'll teach her how to play blitzball. And we can go swimming and hunt for treasure chests. And—"

"Easy there, Chap," Wakka said. "She's not even here yet. Wouldn't wanna rush it anyway."

"Well, why not?"

"Because…well, Bevelle is her home. And when Sir Auron _does_ bring her here, it'll be for good."

"Oh," Chappu said, looking down at his food. "Because of the Final Summoning, right? She won't have a dad anymore."

The tent was silent for a moment. Just about everyone in Spira knew of the Final Summoning and what it meant. It was no news—except to Jecht. Auron still hadn't told him, and he felt that time was closing in on them. When _would_ he do it? He would hate for Jecht to find out himself. That wouldn't go over well. Auron knew he just needed to man up and tell him.

Auron cleared his throat and stood up. "Thank you for breakfast, Ygrainne. I should go check on Braska and Jecht."

"Of course. Leave your dishes and we'll take care of it."

"Thank you."

Chappu's voice broke the silence once Auron left. Perhaps one good thing about having kids around was that they could change a subject at the drop of a hat. By the time Auron was a few steps away, he heard laughter behind him.

Braska had obtained the aeon the night before, so there really was nothing left to do in Besaid, especially now that the ship was repaired. Most of the soldiers had been treated thanks to the villagers and Braska who had spent the better part of the night curing and healing them. Auron wondered when Braska had last slept.

On his way to the temple, he spotted Jecht sitting cross-legged at the edge of a grassy overlook, staring out at the sea. Auron had never seen the man looking so peaceful or so relaxed, except when he was asleep. It seemed strange.

"Good morning," Auron called as he approached his fellow guardian. Jecht didn't stir or respond. He kept his unblinking gaze on the ocean, as if he'd been frozen in time. Auron glanced out at the horizon, wondering what he'd missed. "Jecht? Are you all right?"

After a moment, Jecht blinked himself out of his trance and looked up. "Huh?"

"I said good morning. Didn't you hear me?"

"Oh. Uh, no. Sorry."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Just fine, Auron. Don't worry about me." He pushed himself to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. Dark bags had formed under his red-rimmed eyes. Auron hadn't seen Jecht since the night before when they'd gone to the Cloister of Trials together, and even then he'd seemed…off. Auron thought perhaps he was just tired, but after a day of rest, he should've been back to his old, obnoxious self.

"Ygrainne said that the ship is repaired," Auron told him. "We can leave Besaid now. She said the ship will make it to Luca, at the very least."

"Leave Besaid?" Jecht asked, as if it were a total surprise.

"Well…yes. Don't tell me you want to stay now."

"Of course not," Jecht said, waving a hand. "I'm ready to hit the road."

"But what?"

"Huh?"

"You're acting strange. What is it?"

"Nothing," Jecht said. "I guess this island living is just slowing me down, that's all."

"Hm," Auron said, narrowing his eyes. "All right. I'll buy it for now. Let's go find Braska. We're behind schedule thanks to that damn Sinspawn."

Together they reached the temple, where they found Braska inside speaking with a temple monk. The monk offered them blessings as they approached. "Good morning," Braska said. "I'm glad you two are here. I was just speaking with Goren about Yuna. All is taken care of for her arrival."

"That's good news," Auron said.

"What arrival?" Jecht interrupted. "Why's Yuna coming here?"

"Lord Braska doesn't have to explain himself, Jecht," Auron said.

"It's all right, Auron." He faced Jecht. "I asked Auron to bring Yuna here, after I defeat Sin. I want her far away from Bevelle, from the chaos of Sin—all of it."

"But that's the life she knows," Jecht said. "You're just gonna take her away from it?"

"Jecht," Auron warned.

"I want what's best for her," Braska explained. "I want her to be safe, and happy. She will find that here."

"Well," Jecht sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "you're her father, after all. As long as you're together, everything will be all right."

Braska frowned. "Jecht…?"

"Lord Braska," Auron quickly interrupted. Braska didn't need to explain all _that_ right now to Jecht. It would just create an argument—or worse. Auron would handle it, when the time was right. When he finally found the courage to do it. "The villagers apparently repaired the ship. We're all set to leave."

Braska's face lit up. "Really? That's wonderful news!"

"Yes. It's about time we continued our journey."

"You're absolutely right." Braska turned to the monk and bowed. "Thank you for everything, Goren. I know my daughter will be content here. Please take care."

Goren bowed. "It's the least we can do, Summoner Braska. We will take good care of her." He turned to Auron and bowed again. "I look forward to your return, Sir Auron."

"Once Braska has defeated Sin, keep an eye on the horizon," Auron promised.

"Shall we go, then?" Braska asked, heading for the exit. The others followed after him, making their way across the island to the seaside dock where they'd left the S.S. Liki. They found most of the townspeople there, as well as the soldiers who'd traveled with them. Most of the soldiers had fully recovered. Some were still injured, but all were well enough to reach Luca. Once they returned to the mainland, things would start going back to normal.

"Would you look at that?" Braska said, gazing out at the ship. "They really did do it. I was afraid we'd be stuck here until someone could send us rescue."

"They said it will only take us as far as Luca," Auron said. "Any farther, and it will probably give out."

"That's not a problem," Braska assured him. "We wanted to stop in Luca anyway, didn't we, Jecht?"

Auron and Braska looked to the other guardian, but he was completely spaced out. His eyes locked on the rolling waves before them, as if he'd left his body.

"Jecht?" Braska repeated.

"Huh?" he said, snapping out of his daze. "What'd you say?"

"You do still want to see Luca, don't you?"

"Luca? Oh, yeah. Right. Of course I do."

"Good. We can make a quick stop and perhaps catch a game. Then we'll be on our way again."

Auron narrowed his eyes at Jecht. Something was up. He would have to get it out of him later, though. Now wasn't the time—especially not in front of Braska. They needed to be pillars of strength for the summoner.

Behind them, Wakka, Chappu, and Lulu approached, with Ygrainne at their sides. "We're so glad to have met you, Summoner," Ygrainne said. "Your presence here has comforted us, more than you know. Of all the summoners we've met, you are by far the greatest."

Braska chuckled. "You flatter me. I'm barely even halfway through my pilgrimage."

"Still," she insisted. "You bring an air of hope with you. We can feel it. We know you will defeat Sin."

"And when you do," Wakka said, "we'll be waiting here for your daughter."

Braska smiled. "Thank you. It's nice to know that she'll have friends as soon as she arrives."

"What's her name again?" Chappu asked.

"Her name is Yuna."

"Yuna," he repeated. "Well, Yuna will fit right in here with us."

"I'm glad to hear that." He drew in a deep breath and scanned the faces of his new friends—of Yuna's future family. He would not see them again, but he supposed it didn't matter. This wasn't about him.

"Thank you for all your hospitality," Braska said. "We must be on our way now."

With a heavy heart, he turned and headed up the dock toward the ship, his two guardians following in tow. The soldiers gradually boarded themselves as well, and the captain returned to the helm. All was ready.

In just a few short minutes, they pulled away from the dock. The townspeople waved and shouted goodbyes. Braska returned their farewells as they grew smaller and smaller in his vision. Soon enough, they were far enough away from the shores of Besaid that they couldn't see anyone anymore. Once again, they were out at sea.

"We'll have to keep a wary eye out for Sin," Braska instructed. "So long as we don't cross paths with anymore Sinspawn, I think we'll be fine."

"Let's hope," Auron said.

"I'm going to speak with the captain," Braska said. "I'll be right back."

Auron waited until Braska was well out of earshot. Then, he turned to Jecht and leaned over the railing with him. "What is going on?"

Jecht looked at him. "Huh?"

"You've been acting strange since last night."

"I don't know what—"

"Don't give me that. I know you well enough now to recognize when something is up. So, what is it?"

"It's nothing," Jecht said, turning away from him.

"Are you homesick?"

"No."

"Do you feel ill?"

"Course not."

"Is it your son?"

"No, all right?" Jecht snapped. "Would you just leave me alone, Auron?"

"I can't," Auron replied. "We need to take care of ourselves so we can properly take care of Braska. He doesn't need anything else to worry about, so that means you and I must look after each other."

"What do you want me to say?" Jecht demanded.

"That something is bothering you, because I know it's true."

Jecht leaned over the railing and sighed, gazing down at the school of fish swimming by below them. "I just…I've been thinking, I guess."

"About what?"

"What if…what if there isn't a way home for me?"

Auron frowned. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged. "I just have that feeling, you know?"

"Jecht, there _is_ a way home. Braska and I will help you find it. You don't have to concern yourself with that."

"But I _am_ concerned, Auron."

"I understand," Auron said. "But you must know that Braska will keep his promise."

"Yeah, I know," he said. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Then, he opened it again. "And…well, there's something else."

"Yes?"

Jecht stood up and looked at him. "What if the Final Summoning won't work? What if we reach Zanarkand and Braska _can't_ stop Sin?"

Auron wanted to be angry—it seemed like such an insult to even have that kind of idea. But Jecht didn't fully understand things. He was entitled to his doubt, at least for now. "The Final Summoning never fails. If it did, there would be no Calm."

"But how long does it have to go on?" Jecht said. "If Braska stops Sin, then what? Sin will come back. There has to be another way to do things."

"There isn't," Auron said. "Yevon says that this is the only way."

"I don't care about Yevon."

Auron glanced over his shoulder. "You should keep your voice down. You'll offend someone."

"I don't care who I offend."

"You might offend Braska."

At that, Jecht went silent again. He crossed his arms over the railing and went back to watching the fish below. "I don't care about Yevon," he repeated, much more quietly this time. "I don't care what the teachings say. I just care about Braska stopping Sin—for good. There has to be another way, you know?"

"We must atone for our sins," Auron replied. "Only then will Sin be forever defeated."

"Yeah, but what if that doesn't happen?" Jecht said. "Do you really think everyone in all of Spira can atone for their sins? Do you really think it's possible? If that's what it takes, Sin might never be gone."

"Jecht," Auron sighed, "I realize you don't understand all of this, but you really mustwatch what you say. The teachings of Yevon, the Final Summoning—it's all the people of Spira know. Even if in some unlikely way, you end up being right, no one needs to hear it. No one _wants_ to hear it. They need something to believe in. Yevon gives them hope, and hope helps them endure. Do not insult their hope."

Jecht looked up at him. "You say it like you don't believe it yourself."

Auron drew in a breath and looked away. "I don't know how I feel about Yevon anymore. But I do believe in Braska, and that's what matters. And if Braska believes in Yevon, then I have to, too. If he must do this, then I will stay with him until the end."

"Right," Jecht muttered. "I guess that's all we can do as guardians, huh?"

"Yes," Auron nodded. "You don't have to understand it. You just have to respect it."

"I can try."

"Good." Together they looked out to sea once more. "You'll see, once we reach Zanarkand. You'll see that it's all worth it. Until then, try not to worry." Auron turned away, leaving to find Braska. "I think you just need a break, Jecht. Once we get to Luca, you'll be your old self again."

Jecht sighed and looked up at the sky. "I sure hope so."

* * *

As it turned out, Auron was right. Luca was even better than Jecht had expected. Upon docking, he found himself immediately in high spirits once again. He'd seen the uptight side of Spira in Bevelle, and the seaside, village life in Besaid, but Luca was entirely different. There was so much energy, he didn't know what to do with himself. What's more, everyone was there for blitzball. For a moment, he felt like he was at home again. The only thing missing was the adoring fans fawning over him.

"Does this bring you back?" Braska asked as they stepped onto the port.

"Sure does," Jecht replies. "Only difference is that the buildings are smaller."

"Luca is small," Braska said, "but there's never a dull moment here, and the town is always awake. You'll never be lonely in Luca."

That was good to know. If Jecht had to be stuck in Spira forever, he wouldn't mind staying in Luca. Maybe he could even join the local team, rise to fame, and earn his name back.

 _Why are you thinking that way?_ the voice in his head asked. _You're not stuck here yet._

But what if his dream had been more than that? What if the fayth really had come to him and told him those things? He couldn't be sure, but whether it had happened or not, it had left a lasting impression him, so deep that it concerned Auron, of all people.

He couldn't give up just yet, even if what the fayth had said was true. Like Auron said, hope was an armor. Even if it turned out that he truly couldn't return to Zanarkand, he had to believe it until he found out. To dwell in despair would only hinder him, as well as Braska and his pilgrimage. Right now, that was most important. He had to keep his head up.

"So where to next?" Jecht asked.

"To the stadium, of course."

Jecht raised an eyebrow. "You sure, Braska? We don't have to stop."

"Yes," Braska said, grinning, "we _do_ have to stop. After the past few days, we could use some time to enjoy ourselves."

Auron crossed his arms. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…I agree."

"Well," Jecht said, "if you're sure."

"I am sure. And you don't get a say in it. In fact, I order you to watch the game."

"Ha!" Jecht said. "All right, then. An order's an order. But…how are we gonna get in? We don't have tickets. And if this place is anything like Zanarkand, it's gonna cost a pretty penny."

"Not to worry," Braska assured him. "I'll handle it. Follow me, you two."

Auron and Jecht stuck closely to Braska's sides as they weaved their way through the tight crowds. The general flow of foot traffic headed to the east, but Braska led them to the west. At the end of the path winding around the outside of the stadium, they headed down a sloping hall. Several guards stood watch at the end of the hall.

"Sorry, gentlemen," one guard said, "this is private access only."

"I am Summoner Braska," he said, offering the blessing of Yevon. "I have a standing reservation for suite level entry."

"Braska, huh?" the guard asked. Another approached him, handing him a clipboard. The first guard glanced over the clipboard, flipping through the pages until he reached the last. "Yup. Here you are," he said. "Sorry about that. Go on up the stairs to the right. Suite 5 is reserved for you."

"Thank you," Braska said, bowing. They followed the guard's directions and found their private box, a small room with six seats high above the general grandstands.

"Look at you go, Braska," Jecht chuckled.

"I didn't know you come here often enough to have a standing reservation," Auron said.

"I don't," Braska replied. "I called in a favor before we left Bevelle. I never abuse my position as a summoner, but…this one time, I had to."

"By all means," Jecht said, "abuse away."

"So you _planned_ to stop here after all?" Auron asked.

Braska shrugged. "I thought it would do some good for the soul. A friend in the Macalania Temple has a brother who manages the stadium. He placed a standing reservation on hold for me to come to any one game I wanted."

Jecht took a seat, stretching his legs up on the railing. "And we're mighty glad you did. Thanks, Braska."

Braska smiled. "Of course. Now let's enjoy the game, shall we? I'm afraid I don't know enough about blitzball, so you'll have to educate me, Jecht."

"It'd be my pleasure," he replied.

Auron sighed quietly and took a seat beside Braska. There was no getting out of this now. He would just have to watch the game—or at least pretend to watch it. He couldn't care less about sports, but if Lord Braska wanted it, he would put on a good face.

Five matches were to take place, each of which would last thirty minutes, with ten minute intermissions in between. Fortunately for Auron, food and refreshments were brought to them throughout the game. In between the matches, they talked about anything that didn't have to do with Sin. It was as if they'd taken the day off.

When the final match came, Auron barely noticed that most of the day had gone by. Unlike the previous matches, Jecht was completely enthralled by this one. "Auron," he said, leaning over Braska, "get this match on camera."

"Why?" Auron asked. "It's no different than the rest."

"Just do it. It's my sphere anyway."

Auron sighed. "Fine." He removed the sphere from inside his coat and started filming the match. To be honest, he was getting quite bored, but Braska was enjoying himself and that was all that mattered. Jecht whooped, cheered, clapped, and booed, annoying some of the other spectators, but he was back to his old self. That was worth the stares and dirty looks.

The final match didn't end until the sun had begun to set. By then, everyone began to clear out of the stadium. They would be back again in a few days for the next game, and the one after that, and the one after that. Even though Auron didn't care for blitzball, he couldn't deny that sitting there with thousands of other carefree fans put him at ease. For the very first time in his life, he felt like his problems didn't exist. No wonder the Crusaders guarded Luca so well. This place helped them shed their worries, even if only for a little while.

"I guess we should go," Jecht said, standing up. "We've gotta hit the road, don't we?"

"Yes," Braska said. "But…we can wait another moment."

Braska stared at the blitzball globe, watching as the water drained. He watched the people talk, hug, smile, and laugh. He watched them leave. He watched stadium empty until there was almost no one left in it. Auron and Jecht both knew what was happening: he was soaking up every last second of it.

At last, he rose. "Let's go," he said. "We need to head north."

"To Gagazet, right?" Jecht asked, following.

"Yes, but we'll make a few stops along the way."

Most of the foot traffic had dwindled down, so reaching the dock was much easier than leaving it. Along the way, Jecht wouldn't stop talking. Auron had never met someone so into blitzball, but if it made him happy, then he could get behind it. He was like a kid in a candy store. Braska laughed the entire time, clearly in the best spirits he'd been in a while. Braska had been right: they needed this.

Auron thought now was the perfect moment to catch on the sphere. Jecht could be undoubtedly irritating, but after the last few days of watching him mope around, seeing him happy again relaxed Auron.

"Hey, Auron!" Jecht called. "Did you get that last match?"

"Yeah," Auron replied. "But…I don't understand why you wanted me to. Didn't you say you have blitzball in your Zanarkand?"

Jecht scoffed. "Not a sportsman, are you?"

"Working on your form?" Braska guessed.

"My form don't need no work," Jecht said, crossing his arms. "I'm the great Jecht. It's for my kid."

"Your son plays blitzball?" Braska asked.

"Yeah, and he wants to beat his old man bad. Once I told him to give it up. He didn't speak to me for a week." Like he'd told Elena, it had all been in good fun. Apparently, Tidus had taken it differently.

Jecht gazed out at the boats pulling in and out of the port. "Wonder what he's doing now. I hope he got bigger and put on some muscle." He'd only been gone from Zanarkand for a few days, but it already seemed like months. Did Tidus think of him? Did he miss him? Was he waiting for him to come back?

Jecht's eyes began to water. He turned away from the others and ran a hand over his face. It was only then that he realized Auron was watching. "Hey, what's the big idea? Stop shooting!"

Auron quickly turned off the sphere and returned it to his pocket. The man was a lot softer than he let show, and he didn't want anyone to realize it. Unfortunately for Jecht, the evidence was already on tape.

"We've got quite a walk ahead of us to the next travel agency," Braska said. "Let's get going."

"You said we're making a few stops on the way to Gagazet, right?" Jecht asked. "Where are we going?"

"We'll take the Mi'ihen Highroad to the Moonflow," Braska replied. "Then we'll head into Guadosalam. I'd like to speak with Maester Jyscal."

"For what?" Auron asked before he could catch himself. It really wasn't his business what Braska intended to do, but heading into Guadosalam wasn't the best idea, considering Braska's ties with the Al Bhed, and the way the Al Bhed and the Guado didn't get along.

Braska took no notice to Auron's tone. "To sow seeds of friendship," he replied.

"Sounds good to me," Jecht said. "We can always use more friends."

Auron figured there was no use in worrying about it now. Besides, they'd just had an amazing day—he wouldn't spoil it, even for himself, with worry. They left Luca and headed down the Mi'ihen Highroad with the sun following behind them.

* * *

 **It's about time they got some much-needed R &R.**

 **Okay, everyone! See you next Thursday, Sept. 3! Reviews are much appreciated!**


	14. A Familiar Fight

**Hi, everyone, and welcome back! A relatively short chapter here, and you know what that means! I'll be updating sooner than usual. Yay!**

 **Read on!**

* * *

After a good night's sleep at the travel agency along the Mi'ihen Highroad, everyone was rested enough to continue along. Jecht awakened early the next morning to take a walk and stretch his legs. After his talk with Auron and after their visit to Luca, he was feeling much better. He was still worried about what the fayth had told him, but there was little he could do about it now. The best he could do was try to think of a way they could defeat Sin that _didn't_ involve the Final Summoning.

Jecht didn't care if the teachings wouldn't allow it. If they could stop Sin for good, that was all that mattered. The people of Spira would quickly come to terms with it.

And as for his way home? He could only hope one existed.

"Well, well, well," a voice called behind him. Jecht turned away from his view of the sea to find an old nuisance standing across from him. "Ivran," Jecht muttered. "What are you doing here?"

Again, he was accompanied by his two hulking guardians. They smirked and looked at him as if he was a piece of meat. "I'm on my way to Mount Gagazet. Isn't that where you're headed, too?"

"We'll get there when we get there."

"Hm. Where's Lord Braska? Shouldn't you be guarding him? That is what _guardians_ do."

"It's none of your business what he's doing," Jecht snapped. "Now do you need something, or are you just here to irritate me?"

"There's no need to be hostile," Ivran said, waving a hand. "I would just like a word with him, that's all."

"I'll pass on the message. What do you want?"

"Fine," he sighed. "It seems you insist on being childish. Just tell Braska to be careful along the Mi'ihen Highroad. There have been reports of a fiend attacking any and all who cross it."

"What's new? There are lots of fiends in Spira."

"This one's different," Ivran said. "It eats chocobos."

"Then what do we have to worry about?"

Ivran glared. "Take my advice or don't. It's up to you."

"Why should we trust you?"

"I may dislike you and your summoner but I wouldn't let you walk into danger. Whether or not you heed my warning is on you."

"Fine," Jecht said. "Thanks for the tip."

Ivran grinned. "Take care of yourself, guardian. It's a long way to Zanarkand."

"We'll be just fine."

"I'm sure." Ivran turned to leave, but Jecht stopped him in his tracks. "Hey, Ivran! Aren't you gonna apologize for what you said in Macalania?"

Ivran laughed. "Why would I do that?"

"Because Braska had the decency not to knock you down a few pegs—and so did I."

"I'll give Braska credit for his effort," Ivran said, "but who are you both kidding? He's _not_ going to stop Sin. I mean this with the best interest at heart: he should just go home, back to his daughter. He doesn't have what it takes."

"And you do?" Jecht snorted. "He took on a Sinspawn, you know. He saved our lives, along with hundreds of soldiers. Could _you_ do that?"

"I'll do what needs to be done."

Suddenly, Braska and Auron appeared at Jecht's side. "Good morning, all," Braska said. "Ivran. Good to see you again."

"Braska. We were just leaving." At last, Ivran and his guardians took off down the Highroad. Braska turned to Jecht. "I hope things went better than last time."

"As well as can be expected," Jecht said. "He said he came to warn us."

"About what?" Auron asked.

"Something about a giant fiend that eats chocobos."

Braska stroked his chin. "Interesting."

"Get the camera out," Jecht ordered. "I wanna see this thing in action."

"This isn't the time, Jecht," Auron sighed, but he took out the sphere anyway.

"I say we go after it," Jecht said.

"That's unwise."

"Isn't this our job? To protect the people of Spira and stop the fiends?"

"Not quite."

"Well," Jecht said, "we should."

"A giant fiend that attacks chocobos," Braska mused.

Jecht turned toward the Highroad. "Hmph. What's it waiting for?" He threw his fist into the air. "Hey! Come out and fight!"

Auron sighed. "I told you this was a waste of time."

Jecht faced him. "Hey, come on. It's the right thing to do. Everyone's depending on us. Besides, it's good practice."

Auron chuckled. "I guess you're right."

"Well, then?" Braska asked, turning to his guardians. Despite Auron's protests, he already knew what was going to happen.

Suddenly, a loud roar shook the forest trees down the path leading off from the Highroad. Startled, Auron dropped the sphere.

"There it is!" Jecht cried, taking off. "Auron, let's get 'im!"

"Right!" Auron replied. He scooped up the sphere on his way after the others, quickly pocketing it. They flew past several confused and frightened passers-by on their way down the path. "What are we getting ourselves into?" Auron shouted as they ran.

"Come on, Auron," Jecht called back. "We'll be hailed as heroes!"

"We don't know anything about this fiend."

"Well, we're gonna find out. Quit yappin' and pick up the pace!"

Auron resisted the urge to retort. They followed the fiend's roars down the path winding through the trees. The path sloped upwards, leading to a bridge that wound around the ravine below. They stopped at the base of the bridge, gaping at the creature before them.

The creature blocked the road with two panicked chocobos in its big meaty fists. It was thick in the middle, and where a body should've been, it had only a giant head. Its two purple tongues dripped with globs of mucus. It let out a triumphant roar, as if challenging them to advance.

"There's our guy," Jecht said. "How are we playing this?"

"This was your idea," Auron said.

"All right, gimme a sec."

"Think quickly," Braska said. He raised his hand and cast a fire spell just in time before the creature could take a bite out of the chocobo. It let out a cry and the chocobos made a break for it.

"I've got it!" Jecht cried. "We push it down to the ravine, then pound away at it until it's gone for good!"

Auron glanced down into the gorge. "It could work. At the very least, we'd have it cornered."

"Let's do it!" Jecht removed his sword and braced himself. "Everyone, on me!" He charged at the fiend, taking a leaping swing. It stumbled back a few steps while they closed in on it. As they got closer, it swung its long arm at Auron, who narrowly dodged the attack.

The beast was much faster than they'd given it credit for. It whipped its arms back and forth, trying to smash Auron and Jecht into the ground as they weaved their way around it. Anytime they came close, Braska would cast a spell at it, dazing it long enough for them to push back. The road was dangerously narrow, and a single missed step would mean a deadly fall down the side of the cliff, but they did not relent.

"Knock 'im off his feet!" Jecht ordered.

They waited until Braska distracted it with another spell, then together, Auron and Jecht swung at its short, stubby legs. The beast went down like a sack of potatoes, dropping flat onto its face. The impact of its fall was so heavy that the edge of the cliff where it stood began to crumble beneath its feet. It clawed at the ground, struggling to avoid the tumble into the ravine below, but Braska's fire spell forced it to lose its grip. It rolled down the side of the sharp, rocky cliff, dropping to the ground below.

Jecht, Braska, and Auron peered into the ravine. "You think we finished it off?" Auron asked.

"Doubt it," Jecht said. "But let's go down there and find out!"

Jecht raced ahead down the path beyond the bridge with Auron and Braska hot on his trail. They made their way down the sloping path leading into the ravine and found the creature coming back around. This time, it was twice as angry. It let out a loud roar at the sight of its foes and braced itself to attack.

"It's not happy," Auron said, rearming himself.

"At least we've got it trapped," Jecht replied. "Now we've just gotta finish him."

"It seems we have an audience," Braska said. They looked up and found that several people had gathered to watch the cliff edges about the ravine. Among them were Ivran and his guardians. _What's he doing here?_ Jecht wondered. He thought that jerk had left long ago. Even after defeating the chocobo eater, Ivran would probably have something to say. If it came to that, Jecht wasn't sure he could hold back.

But that wasn't important right now. They had bigger fish to fry. Jecht turned his attention back to the fiend at hand. "Let's put this guy to bed!"

They moved in on the enemy in the same manner as before, though this time it fought back twice as hard. Even Braska's spells seemed to be less effective this time around. It moved faster, it swung harder, and it pushed them back more than they pushed it. Backed up against the south wall of the ravine, they found it difficult to advance.

At one point, the beast got tricky. Jecht dodged its swing and charged at it, but it backhanded him with its other arm and sent him flying across the gorge. Auron attempted to swing while it was distracted, but it caught onto his intentions and knocked him across the ravine, too, isolating Braska.

The summoner wasted no time. Raising his staff, he summoned his newest aeon, Valefor. The hawk-like creature floated down toward the earth, placing itself between Braska and the chocobo eater. All around, the people watching from above gasped. Most of them had probably never seen an aeon before.

The fiend was confused for a moment at the sight of its new foe. Valefor swept toward the beast, using its claws to knock the creature onto its back, where it lay wiggling for a few second. In that time, Valefor shot a beam of energy from his mouth, drawing a circle around the chocobo eater. The ground exploded underneath its feet, launching the fiend into the air.

Those watching began to cheer, but the fight wasn't over just yet. The fiend climbed back to its feet and released a roar that shook the ground around it. It pounded its fists on the ground, uprooting a chunk of the earth. It spun around and hurtled the mound of dirt, grass, and cobblestone at Valefor, slamming him against the wall. The aeon slumped to the ground and disappeared in a haze of pyreflies.

"Any other genius ideas, Jecht?" Auron asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Distract it so Braska can finish it off!"

He charged at the aeon once more, diverting its attention for a split second. Auron joined in, and together they kept the fiend occupied. Braska grasped his staff with both hands and raised it to the sky. "You will know pain," he declared.

Stepping back, he twirled the staff over his head. A funnel of fire sprang up beneath the creature's feet, stunning it. Braska cast his flare spell again, knocking it off its feet. By the third time, the chocobo eater was powerless. It stumbled backwards, groaning in pain. Then, it sprawled onto its back, and a swarm of pyreflies consumed it.

Jecht and Auron approached Braska, both exhausted and out of breath. "We did it," Jecht breathed. "See, Auron? What'd I tell you?"

Auron stood up and drew in a deep breath. First he shook his head—then he chuckled. "Well, what do you know? You were right about something for once."

Jecht nudged him. "Oh, gimme a break, won't ya?"

Braska laughed. "I can't believe we did that."

"Yeah," Jecht said. "But look how happy we made everyone."

The people watching from above were still cheering and applauding. Even Ivran looked pleased. Nothing made Jecht feel better than seeing _that_. "There's the audience we've been waiting for," Jecht said. He stepped between his companions and grabbed their hands, lifting them into the air like contenders in a boxing match. "Everyone, listen up!" he shouted. "When someone asks who it was that defeated the chocobo eater, you tell 'em it was Summoner Braska!"

The applause grew louder. Braska took a step forward and raised a hand to quiet them. "But I couldn't have done it without the help of my faithful guardians, Sir Auron and Sir Jecht!"

Again, whistles and cheers went up.

Braska faced his friends and smiled. "Let's go. Our adoring fans await us."

* * *

A large crowd had gathered by the time they returned to the travel agency, making it almost impossible to get by. People clapped them on their shoulders, chanted their names, and blessed them in the name of Yevon.

Never in his life had Jecht been glorified for something other than blitzball. He hadn't expected it to feel so good, so rewarding. He had helped save these people and put an end to the fiend's reign of terror. The Mi'ihen Highroad would be safe once again, and he was partly to thank. His wife and kid would be so proud of him if they knew.

A man approached them and bowed. "Summoner Braska, Sir Guardians—on behalf of everyone here, I'd like to thank you for your help. That chocobo eater has been giving us trouble for months. But all that is behind us now—thanks to you."

"There is no need to thank us," Braska returned, bowing back.

"Yeah," Jecht said. "We just did what needed to be done."

"Don't be so modest," the man said. "Your bravery was encouraging." He reached into his coat and removed a small pouch jingling with coins. "My employer and the owner of the travel agencies throughout Spira, Mr. Rin, has asked me to give you this. It's not much, and he regrets not being able to thank you himself, but we had to do something."

"That's not necessary," Braska said.

"Of course it is. Please, let us thank you with this small token of appreciation. It's the least we can do."

Reluctantly, Braska accepted the payment. He and his guardians bowed. "Thank you, sir. And please thank Mr. Rin as well."

"Of course," the man replied. "And as for the rest of your pilgrimage, your stays at Mr. Rin's travel agencies will be complimentary."

"That will be of great service to us. Again, we thank you."

It took a little while longer for the crowd to dwindle down. When it did, Ivran and his guardians approached. Jecht crossed his arms and glared. "What're you still doin' here, Ivran?"

Ivran sighed. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your small victory, Braska. The people seem to be quite thankful for your help."

"Thank you, but I did not do it alone."

Ivran resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was clear that, unlike Braska, humility was not a trait he regularly practiced. "I may have underestimated the three of you."

"And?" Jecht said.

"And…well, you were quite impressive in battle."

Jecht shook his head. "Try again, pal."

"Fine. I'm sorry. Perhaps…perhaps my behavior was out of line."

Auron scoffed. "Perhaps?"

"No offense, Braska, but look at you," he said. "You're a summoner who's fallen from Yevon, and you've married an Al Bhed woman, for Spira's sake."

"You got a point?" Jecht demanded.

Ivran waved a hand. "It's just…well, you're the last person I'd expect to be capable of facing Sin."

"And that is why I must do it," Braska said.

"And he _will_ do it," Jecht added. "You can get behind it or get outta our way."

Ivran nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you for your words, Ivran," Braska said, "but I don't need your approval—or anyone else's for that matter—to go on."

"And that is what's most remarkable about you," Ivran said. "All of Spira laughs at you, yet you press forward anyway. You are a noble man, and for that, you have my respect." For the first time since they'd met Ivran, he bowed to Braska. "Forgive me for doubting you. Spira needs more people like you."

Braska nodded. "Thank you." He turned to his guardians. "Shall we get going?"

"Yes," Auron said. "Let's go."

Leaving behind Ivran and his guardians, they made their way down the Mi'ihen Highroad. Not one of them looked over his shoulder at the summoner and his crew, but the swell of pride had risen up within each of them. For once, Jecht heeded Braska's advice and did not gloat. After all, Ivran had learned his lesson.

Soon, all of Spira would, too.

* * *

 **That chocobo eater just never learns, does it?**

 **As promised, chapter 15 will be posted on Monday, 9/7. Consider it my Labor Day present to you guys. :) See you then!**


	15. Revelations

**All right, everyone. Things are about to get serious. Fun times are unfortunately over. It wouldn't be Final Fantasy if everything was rainbows and smiles.**

 **Read on...**

 **Reibunriinta:** I meant to say last time that I'm glad my story makes you so happy! Lol. And thanks about the action scenes...I actually feel like I struggle with those the most, so I'm glad to know I do well with them. :)

* * *

"The Moonflow at last," Braska said.

Jecht approached the water's edge and gazed out at the horizon. Patchy gray clouds hung low enough to cool the air, making everyone feel rather lethargic. Purple flowers sprouted through the water, accompanied by lily pads scattered across the surface. Pyreflies danced toward the sky, creating a dream-like haze around the body of water.

"This place is sweet," Jecht said. "I could get lost here for days."

"If only we had the time," Braska said. "For now, we'll take a shoopuf across the lake and head into Guadosalam."

"These Guado people," Jecht said. "Will they be happy to see us?"

"I think so."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"What's the worst that could happen?" Braska asked. He set off following the path leading away from the Moonflow and into the thicket of trees. Jecht liked the place so much, he wasn't sure he wanted to leave. In fact, if he could somehow come back to Spira after everything was over, he would definitely bring his family here.

Jecht caught up with the others in the loading area beyond the trees. There they found other travelers with their belongings, waiting on benches and seated around a cantina. Jecht took off in the direction of the bar.

"Where are you going?" Auron demanded.

"Just getting a drink," Jecht called over his shoulder.

"Now's not the time, Jecht. The shoopuf will be here soon."

"Then I'll make it fast."

He couldn't count how many days it had been since his last beer. It had been during his last night in Zanarkand, but how long ago was that?

Jecht pulled up a seat and reached into his pocket. It took him a few seconds to remember he had no money at all. For a moment, he had totally forgotten, and he wasn't going to ask Braska for a dime. The man had already covered him far too many times.

The bartender approached Jecht. "What can I get for you, sir?" he asked, cleaning out the inside of a glass.

"Nothing," Jecht said, standing up. "Thanks."

"Hey, I know who you are!" someone at his side said.

Jecht turned to face a young man with shaggy brown hair and a goofy smile. He'd obviously had a few drinks already. He nudged his buddy at his side. "Zed, it's him—the guy who fought the fiend in Mi'ihen."

His friend looked up at Jecht. "So it is," he said, his words a bit slurred. "Everyone from here to Bevelle heard about your fight with the chocobo eater. You're amazing!"

"Oh…thanks, I guess."

The first guy waved down the bartender. "Can I get a drink for my friend here?"

"I've gotta get going," Jecht said, although he wasn't sure why. He wasn't one to turn down a free drink. Back home, fans bought him drinks left and right.

"You sat down, didn't you?" Zed said.

"Yeah, but the shoopuf—"

"Shoopuf won't come for another hour. Might as well relax and have a drink."

With a sigh, Jecht sat down again. The bartender placed an overflowing mug in front of him, which he readily accepted. "Thanks."

"Your name's Jecht, right?" the first guy asked.

"That's right."

"I'm Glenn. This here's my buddy, Zed."

Zed raised his glass by way of introduction, then proceeded to drain the mug.

"Where you from, Jecht?" Glenn asked.

"I'm from Zan…er, I mean, Bevelle." He was tired of trying to explain himself to people. He would just have to play it cool from now on. It would save him a lot of energy and breath—and keep him out of trouble.

"Bevelle, huh?" Zed asked. "And that man is Summoner Braska, isn't it?"

"Why do you wanna know?" Jecht asked.

"Just curious. I've never actually met a summoner, but I've got the utmost respect for them. It can't be easy doin' what they do."

After deciding the man was just a nosey drunk and not an ill-intentioned villain, Jecht relaxed. "Yeah, that's Summoner Braska. He's the best around. He's gonna defeat Sin."

Glenn ordered a round of shots and passed one to each of them. Raising the glass, he said, "We'll hold you to it, brother. Here's to the Calm!" They clanked their glasses together and threw back the liquor.

By the time Auron came looking for him, Jecht had lost track of how much he'd had to drink. Zed and Glenn were so far gone, the bartender had to cut them off. The three of them talked and laughed loudly enough for all of Spira to hear.

Auron came up the stairs behind Jecht and crossed his arms. "The shoopuf is here."

Jecht turned around in his seat and gave Auron a big, lazy smile. "Is that so?" he asked, his eyes glossed over and his words slurred.

"Let's go. We don't want to be late."

"What's the hurry?" Zed asked, almost falling out of his seat.

Auron gave Jecht a wary look. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Why?" Jecht asked. "Y'want some? There's plenty left. And you could use it."

His buddies laughed, but Auron remained tight-lipped. "I don't drink. And you probably shouldn't either, judging by your lack of coherence."

"Hey!" Jecht cried. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

Auron sighed and started down the steps. "Let's go. If you're late, we leave without you."

"All right, all right." Jecht stumbled out of his seat and saluted his new friends. "Gentlemen, thanks for the good times."

They threw their fists into the air. "Hail Braska!" they cried.

"Hail Braska!" Jecht returned over his shoulder as he staggered after Auron.

Auron shot him a glare as Jecht approached his side. "If you insist on making a fool of yourself, I cannot be seen with you. You represent Braska, you know. Anything you do is on him."

"Hey, chill out," Jecht snapped. "I conduct myself quite well as a drunk."

Auron shook his head and walked away from Jecht, heading for the loading platform where Braska waited.

When Jecht finally looked up, he stopped in his tracks. His mouth dropped to the ground and his eyes widened at the sight of the beast before him. With its long trunk and big black eyes, Jecht had never seen anything like it before. It could easily trample someone—or worse. Why wasn't anyone trying to get rid of it?

Jecht did what he thought was best: he took out his sword and, with a loud cry, charged at the fiend, determined to protect everyone around him in whatever way necessary. He'd already taken on the chocobo eater—why couldn't he stop this thing, too?

Somewhere behind him, he heard people shouting his name to stop him. He knew they would thank him later. He took one good swing at the fiend's back leg, injuring it so badly that it let out a blood-curdling roar and reared up on its hind legs. Jecht tumbled to the ground, seeing double. The beast was furious, and he was powerless to stop it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Braska arriving on the scene. He raised his staff over his head and cast some kind of spell that instantly calmed the fiend. Jecht felt a strong pair of hands grab him underneath the armpits. They dragged him to his feet and away from the scene.

"Have you lost your mind?" Auron demanded, freeing Jecht from his grasp.

Jecht shook himself away from Auron. "Get off me, all right? I was trynna help!"

"Help with _what_?"

"Help stop the fiend!"

"Jecht, that's the shoopuf!"

Jecht blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yes. And you attacked it!"

Jecht turned around, barely noticing all the people standing in silence looking his way. His cheeks went hot. How could he be so stupid?

"I can fix this," he said.

"I think you've done enough," Auron snapped. "Just wait here while Braska and I handle this, all right?"

"Yeah, all right."

"Don't go _anywhere_."

"I heard you!"

Auron glared at him before returning to Braska's side. A short blue man with eyes on the sides of his head waved his arms in obvious anger. Braska did his best to calm the handler, but it wasn't working. Jecht was close enough to hear what was being said.

"Dish ish just terri-bibble!" he cried. "How can you expect ze shoopuf to shwim with an injured leg?"

"I can heal him," Braska insisted. "A little curing magic will do the trick."

"Magics, you shay?"

"Yes. In addition to that, I will pay you whatever you ask for the trouble. I only ask that you don't report our friend here. Truthfully, we've had a long journey, and he indulged a bit too much."

The handler stroked his chin, glancing at the shoopuf. "Three hundred gil for ze shoopuf, and another two hundred to keep me quiet."

Jecht almost protested. That man was completely ripping Braska off! But a promise was a promise, and Jecht had nothing to offer. He wished he could disappear, he was so embarrassed.

Braska handed over the gil, obviously trying hard to keep his cool. "If I wosh you," the handler said, "I would find another way acrosh ze river."

Braska nodded. "Of course. Again, I'm terribly sorry."

He approached the shoopuf and waved his staff once more. The wound stopped bleeding and sealed up, but the scar remained. It would be there a forever, an embarrassing reminder of Jecht's drunken stupidity.

Braska and Auron came Jecht's way. All the while, every eye in the area lingered upon them. The handler didn't take his gaze off of them even for a second. Braska, however, being the dignified man he was, didn't look back. Jecht expected him to be furious, and although he certainly looked irritated, there wasn't a trace of anger or rage on his face. "Let's go," he said as he made his way past Jecht.

Auron, however, made sure to express his dissatisfaction, shooting Jecht a dirty look as they walked by. "Come on. Apparently we can't take our eyes off you for a second."

Jecht wanted to retort, but he knew he should just keep quiet. After what he'd done, he deserved all the scolding and chastising. He followed behind the others, feeling the heat of everyone's stares upon his back as they made their way down the path they'd taken to reach the loading area.

"I know it won't make a difference," Jecht said, "but…I'm sorry, Braska. I was a complete idiot."

Braska did not respond as he approached the water's edge and faced away from them. Auron took up his own post a few feet away from Braska, close but not too close as he always was. Although still drunk, Jecht did his best to fade into the background. He took a seat on the ground and stretched out onto his side, wishing the dizziness away.

How could he be so stupid? He never should've joined those guys. They had already been past gone when he'd sat down with them. After several shots and beers, Jecht should've known better.

But he didn't know better. He never knew better. That's why it was costing him his career. That's why he lost the last match he ever played. That's why no one respected him and his kid resented him.

 _You're a has-been,_ the familiar voice in his head told him. _You were great once, but now you're a selfish jerk—all because you can't put the bottle down._

And now look what he'd done. He had cost Braska, both in money and reputation. People would talk about this until the end of time, saying things like, "Remember Summoner Braska? It was _his_ guardian who injured that shoopuf!" Nothing could be more embarrassing. Not even losing that last match.

It wasn't even himself he was mostly embarrassed for—it was Braska. Here the man was, risking his life to save his entire world, and Jecht had jeopardized it with his powerful urge for the drink. What would happen next?

He heard footsteps in front of him and looked up to find Auron with a sphere at hand. "What are you shooting me for?" he grumbled.

"So you won't do anything stupid again," Auron replied. "I can't believe you attacked that shoopuf. Lord Braska had to pay the handler for damages—from his own travel money!"

"I said I was sorry," Jecht said, looking away. "It's never gonna happen again. I promise."

"Ah, a promise," Auron snorted. "Which you'll forget, come tomorrow."

Braska's chuckled diverted their attention. What was he laughing about? Auron thought he would be furious, would wring Jecht's neck for what he'd done, even if it wasn't in Braska's nature. But he was _laughing_! "Auron, please," he said calmly, turning to face them at last with a smile. "He did apologize. He knows he was wrong."

Jecht knew what he needed to do. Drawing in a deep breath, he stood up, despite how dizzy he was. He took a few steps toward the water and crossed his arms. "That's it. Only thing I drink from now on is shoopuf milk."

Braska looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

"We're on a journey to fight Sin and save Spira, right?" Jecht said. "If I keep screwing up…and…making a fool of myself, my wife and kid are never gonna forgive me."

"That's on the record," Auron said, nodding toward the sphere. He switched it off and returned it to his pocket. Jecht waved a hand to silence him. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. Like I said, a promise is a promise. It _won't_ happen again."

"Good. Next time, we'll feed you to the shoopuf."

Braska chuckled. "Let's get moving. It's a long way to Guadosalam on foot."

"There's no other way?" Jecht asked.

"No," Auron said. "So I hope you're prepared for the exercise."

In his current drunken state, he wasn't—but he couldn't complain now. He would just have to suck it up and get on with it.

* * *

After a few hours of walking, Jecht had sobered up. The group reached Guadosalam shortly after sunset. Their arrival brought stares from all the locals passing by, and they didn't look too friendly as far as Jecht was concerned. "Are you sure they'll be happy to see us?" he whispered to Braska.

"Certainly. We come in peace, after all."

"Yeah, but they don't _look_ happy to see us."

"They don't get many visitors, especially lately."

"Why is that?"

"Politics mostly," Braska replied. "But enough of that. Let's go meet the Maester."

They followed the sloping path deeper into the trees. A darkness came over the forest as they descended into Guadosalam. The tree roots and lake water formed a type of floor beneath them.

Inside Guadosalam, things were much more colorful—and smaller. The entire area, which Jecht thought looked like the inside of a large tree, wasn't much bigger than his home back in Zanarkand. The trees overhead interlocked their branches so tightly, they formed a ceiling. Maybe they were still outside after all.

The people themselves, the Guado, were at least a full foot taller than any human, with a greenish tint to their skin. Their hands were larger than human hands, with long, sharp nails that almost looked like claws. Their hair stood up on end, some in colors of green, pink, or blue. Jecht had never seen anything like them.

"So where do we find this Maester?" Jecht asked. "Kinda have the feeling we should get outta here sooner rather than later."

"We'll ask," Braska replied. As they continued into the Guado city, an elderly Guado with green hair and a long coat approached them, accompanied by what looked like two guards. "Good evening," he said in a deep voice. "May I help you?"

"Yes," Braska answered. "I am Summoner Braska of Bevelle. I am here to see Maester Jyscal."

"Summoner, you say? What brings you all this way into Guadosalam?"

"We are simply passing by and thought we should introduce ourselves. I've heard much about the Maester and would love to meet him."

The Guado looked Braska up and down, then turned away. "Wait here, please." Braska bowed as he and his guards left.

"He didn't seem pleased to see us," Jecht said.

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

A few minutes later, the Guado returned, this time in a much friendlier mood and without his guards. "This way, please. Maester Jyscal will see you."

Braska gave Jecht a grin before following their guide. He led them past a red door and into a closed-off room. Two staircases led up both sides of the room to the second level. Before them, a long table stretched across the middle of the room, decorated with delicacies of every shape, size, and color.

"Forgive me if I seemed a bit standoffish earlier," the Guado said. "We don't receive many visitors except for those wishing to visit the Farplane, and haven't had pleasant experiences with those who do come by."

"No need to apologize," Braska insisted. "We did come by unannounced."

"My name is Tromell. I am Maester Jyscal's personal attendant."

"Pleased to meet you. These are my guardians, Sir Auron and Sir Jecht."

Tromell dipped his head in their direction. "If you'll wait another minute, Lord Jyscal will be down momentarily. In the meantime, help yourselves." He gestured at the food, then disappeared up the stairs.

Jecht, of course, was the first to take up Tromell's offer. "I'm starvin'," he said, picking up what looked like an apple. "So what makes this Jyscal guy so special?"

"He's a Maester, for one," Auron replied. "Which means you need to show respect."

"He was only recently appointed as Maester," Braska explained. "Grand Maester Mika amended the political policies of Yevon to include non-human members as Maesters on the council. He thought it would appease the masses and offer a bit more balance in Yevon."

"Is he allowed to do that?" Jecht asked.

"He's the Grand Maester," Auron said. "So, yes."

"Hmph. Seems a little convenient."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, if it's Yevon who said it, how can just anyone change it?"

"But he's not just anyone," Auron argued. "He's the Grand Maester."

"All right. Whatever you say."

"Maester Jyscal has dealt with some…tough circumstances," Braska said. "He wed a human woman nearly twenty years ago, which caused quite a bit of strife among the Guado. To make matters more difficult, their son suffered the brunt of the prejudice. He and his mother were sent away to prevent the uprising that was sure to come."

"Just like that?" Jecht demanded.

Braska nodded. "He did what he thought was best for his people."

"By getting rid of his kid?"

"It wasn't an easy choice, but he must've felt it had to be made."

As much as he picked at his son, Jecht could never give him up. Not for anyone or anything. He wasn't so sure he was going to like this Jyscal guy.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," a voice called from the top of the stairs. There stood Maester Jyscal, even older than Tromell and somehow looking less friendly. As he made his way down, his long orange robe trailed behind him. He walked with a cane to support himself, taking long steps down the stairs.

"Maester Jyscal," Braska said, giving him the blessing of Yevon. "It's an honor to meet you, my lord."

The Maester reached the ground floor and bowed to his company. "And an honor to have you here. Few summoners take the time to pass through our city."

Auron bowed to the Maester, and Jecht reluctantly followed suit. The man's face was permanently marked with wrinkles and frown lines, and his eyes looked unfriendly. But Jecht had learned his lesson time and again, so for now, he would just keep his mouth shut.

"Given that," the Maester continued, "I have to wonder exactly why you did pass through."

"To build a friendship," Braska replied. "I know about your efforts to sow seeds of peace between the Guado and humans. You've done what you could to reach out, so here we are, accepting your invitation."

After staring at him for a moment, considering his words, Jyscal smiled. "Indeed, it is a noble gesture. Come with me, won't you? I'd like to introduce you to my son."

Braska blinked. "Your…son?"

"Yes. He's only just returned to Guadosalam after his exile."

"Forgive my ignorance," Braska said, following after the Maester. "I had no idea."

"Not many do," Jyscal said. "Considering the circumstances that led to his exile in the first place, I've kept his return rather quiet."

"Understandable."

They followed Jyscal down the hall, past the smorgasbord of food, and into the adjoining room. There they found a man seated at a desk surrounded by stacks of paperwork. Upon Jyscal's arrival, he rose to his feet. "Father," he said, his voice low and soft.

"I'd like you to meet our guests," Jyscal said.

He came around the side of the desk and approached the guests, bowing. He wore a long blue coat, and had blue hair and chest tattoos. Like the other Guado, he was unusually tall and had large hands and long nails, but he looked human other than that. It was that look in his eyes, though, that set Jecht on edge. There was something dark behind them, something dangerous sitting right at the surface.

"This is my son, Seymour," Jyscal said.

"A pleasure," Braska replied. "I am Summoner Braska."

"Good to meet you, my lord," Seymour returned.

"Seymour assists me with day-to-day tasks," Jyscal said. "He keeps to the shadows for the most part."

"It seems that's where I belong," Seymour said with a strained smile. His resentment toward his father was obvious. Jecht wondered how old he had been when Jyscal had sent him away. Perhaps eight or nine years old? Either way, too young to know such hate.

"I had no idea of your return, Lord Seymour," Braska said. "It must be a great comfort to be home once again."

"Yes," Seymour replied. "Guadosalam is a lot more peaceful than I remember it. Of course, it only took me leaving in the first place to achieve such peace. But thanks to Grand Maester Mika and the teachings of Yevon, I am…tolerated."

"Time will change the people's view," Braska assured him. "My daughter comes from two worlds just as you do, but I believe it will only give her a deeper understanding of the world. I hope you can see that, too."

A forced smile came to his lips. "We shall see."

"The summoner is right, Seymour," Jyscal said. "The waves of uprising have settled. Times are different now than they were when you left ten years ago. I hope you can understand that."

"Of course, Father," Seymour said, although he obviously didn't believe it entirely. "Summoner Braska is a beacon of hope for those like me—for those conceived against the teachings of their kind. He, too, wed against the regulations of his faith, yet he still pursues Sin." He smiled at Braska. "I have full faith that you will bring the Calm. When the Final Summoning is performed, your death will not be in vain."

Braska bowed. "Thank you, my lord."

Jecht's stomach dropped. "Death?" he practically shouted. "What do you mean?"

All heads turned his way. For a moment, he felt like time had been frozen, like he was trapped in a fog and couldn't move.

"I'm sorry?" Seymour asked.

"Braska's not going anywhere," Jecht insisted. "He's not gonna die. He's gonna stop Sin and go back home."

"Jecht…" Auron started to say, but his words caught in his throat.

"I think you misunderstand how the Final Summoning works," Seymour said. "Summoner Braska will not return. When he and the Final Aeon defeat Sin, together they will pass."

Jecht took a step back, feeling as if he'd been punched in the gut. "No…no, that can't be true." He faced Braska. "Tell me it's not true."

Braska slowly looked down. "I'm sorry, Jecht. I…I thought you knew."

"If I'd known, I never would've come along!" He whipped around to face Auron, who dropped his head in shame. "How could you not tell me?"

"I tried," Auron said quietly. "But…I just didn't have the strength."

"That's a piss-poor excuse, Auron!"

"I know. I never meant for you to find out this way. I was going to tell you but…"

"But _what_?"

Auron looked down. "I hoped we'd find a way to get you home before you had to learn the truth."

"Well, you didn't! Did you?"

Jecht stormed out of Jyscal's private quarters and flung himself through the door. He stumbled through the Guado city, earning strange looks from those around him. He didn't care what anyone thought. He just had to get out of there.

Somehow, he found himself outside in the Thunder Plains. He didn't remember actually _going_ outside, but that was where he ended up. Everything was such a blur. He collapsed to his knees in the mud, not caring if a bolt of lightning struck him. It would be a welcomed escape to drop dead right where he was.

How could this happen? After everything they'd been through together, after their journey all over Spira, how could they keep this from him? He may not have known them that long, but he thought they were closer than that. Maybe it was just a job to them.

"Jecht!" Auron called over the thunder. He and Braska appeared in front of him, but he didn't look up. "Jecht, please. Come back inside. It's not safe out here."

"How could you hide it from me, Auron?" Jecht cried, pounding his fist into the ground.

"It's not exactly something you can just bring up," Auron argued. "I wanted to tell you—I tried to tell you—but…I just couldn't."

Jecht sprang to his feet. Heaving, he summoned his sword and charged at Auron with a loud cry. Auron barely had enough time to deflect the attack. He shoved hard, knocking Jecht back a few steps, but Jecht swung again. He swung so hard, he knocked the sword out of Auron's hand, something that had never happened to Auron in the past.

Before Jecht could swing again, Braska raised his hand and cast a thunder spell. The bolt struck between the two of them, flinging them backwards. They collapsed onto their backs, and Jecht's sword flew out of his hand.

Braska's intervention silenced them both. They sat up, looking at the summoner in total shock. He looked at each of them with sad eyes, then lowered his gaze to the ground. "Let's move someplace safe," he said quietly. "We need to talk."

Braska headed toward the awning in the distance, leaving his guardians behind. Auron rose to his feet and offered Jecht a hand, which he took after a moment. They followed after the summoner in silence.

Underneath the awning, Braska gazed out into the Plains. For several minutes, no one spoke. No one knew what to say, after all. The silence was almost less painful than the conversation that they knew was coming.

At last, Braska broke the quiet with a sigh. "I'm sorry you didn't know, Jecht," he said. "You deserved to know. You're risking your life, too, and you've become a dear friend to me. It never should've happened this way."

Jecht didn't know how to respond. He crossed his arms and looked down, wishing he could disappear.

"I'm afraid it's all true," he went on. "When I call the Final Aeon, I…I will die."

Jecht was sure his heart had begun to break. "Braska," he said weakly. "You don't have to do this. You can go back home, back to Yuna, and live a normal life."

Braska shook his head. "But I must do this, my friend. There is no other way."

"Someone else can stop Sin. Someone who has nothing to lose."

"I knew what I got myself into the day I decided to become a summoner. I accepted my fate long ago. To save Spira, to bring peace, I _must_ go on. I must stop Sin."

"To save Spira?" Jecht said. "Who cares about Spira? What about Yuna? She needs you, too!"

"Yuna knows what will happen," Braska replied. "She knows of my sacrifice. She is strong, and she will accept it."

Jecht shook his head. Anger washed over him again. "Then…then you're no better than Jyscal! How can you just abandon your daughter for Spira? These people have scorned and mocked you, and yet you still fight for them! Why not for _her_?"

"Jecht!" Auron cried. "That's far enough!"

"It's all right, Auron," Braska said calmly. At last, he turned and faced them, his eyes glistening with tears. "I wish I could make you understand, Jecht. The choice was never easy, but I knew that if I am capable of bringing an end to death itself, how could I _not_ do what needs to be done?"

"But…but why does it have to be you? There are plenty of other summoners willing to do the same. Let them do it!"

"It's not just for Spira that I will face Sin," Braska replied. "Someone like me—someone scorned by Spira and Yevon—needs to do this. I will show Spira that there is room for people like Yuna and Seymour, for people who don't fit the mold. I will fight Sin first for Yuna, and then for Spira."

Jecht turned around and closed his eyes. There was no talking him out of this. He had already come this far and he wouldn't stop now. He would reach Zanarkand, he would call the Final Aeon, and he would defeat Sin by giving his own life.

"There has to be another way," Jecht said quietly. "Sin will just come back, right? Maybe the Final Summoning is just a temporary solution. It can't be this way forever."

"This is the only way," Braska replied.

"It's not worth it, Braska."

Braska gazed out into the rain. "It is to me. Peace, even if not everlasting, is always worth it."

Jecht took a seat on the ground and dropped his head into his hands. He could chain Braska to the wall and the man would still find a way to Zanarkand. All his protests were futile.

"If you wish to quit," Braska said, "I would understand. We will still help you find a way home."

Jecht looked up at him. "I don't wanna be a part of this. But…I'm not gonna abandon you now." He drew in a deep breath. "I'll stay with you to the end, Braska."

He nodded, avoiding Jecht's gaze. "Thank you."

The three of them stayed under the awning for the rest of the night, listening to the rain and watching the sky light up. No one said another word about the Final Summoning. No one really spoke at all. They simply remained where they were, wishing they never had to leave.

Wishing time would stop completely.

* * *

 **:(**

 **There is nothing much to say. Poor Braska. Poor Jecht. Poor Auron. What a sucky situation. *sniff***

 **Anyway...chapter 16 will be posted on Thursday night, 9/10. We're getting closer to the end here, so stay with me. Until then, leave me some lovely reviews, please!**


	16. Worthy of the Mountain

**Back again! And like last time, it's only going to get more depressing. :( Read on!**

 **Reibunriinta:** In the walkthrough/guide book, Seymour is listed as 28 and Yuna is, of course, 17. So yeah, he's a bit of an old perv. Lol. He couldn't just wait one more year?  
 **fanficlove2014:** Aw, I'm glad I made you cry! In a good way, of course. Haha.

* * *

It took them three days to trek from Guadosalam to the base of Mount Gagazet. Most of the journey was made in silence, and when anyone did speak, the tension was thick. Since Jecht had learned the truth that night, things between them just hadn't been the same. How could they go back to laughing and smiling like nothing was wrong?

Braska tried to fill the silence and keep the atmosphere light-hearted, but no one felt up to the task of playing along. It required more strength than anyone had.

The group stopped at the base of the snowy path leading up toward the main gate of Mount Gagazet. High above in the distance, the mountain towered miles into the sky. The peak was shrouded in clouds, fog, and mist.

Jecht gazed up into the sky, allowing the snowflakes to sprinkle over him. "So this is it, ain't it? Once we pass Gagazet, it's on to Zanarkand—and there's no going back after that."

"Yes," Braska replied. And that was all he said.

Auron took a few steps forward, then stopped. It wasn't until the day before that he'd realized each step they took toward Zanarkand would be Braska's last. He would never see the Moonflow again. He would never see Macalania again. He would never ride a shoopuf again.

He would never hold his daughter's hand again.

Auron thought he had accepted Braska's fate long ago, when he'd first taken up his position as guardian. But ever since Guadosalam, his own resolve had begun to waver.

He would not admit it out loud, but there was some truth to Jecht's word. Actually, there was a lot of truth to them. It wasn't the first time Auron had heard it, or had even though of it himself—it was just the first time everything had stuck with him. Was it indeed worth it to sacrifice a summoner just for a little peace?

These thoughts weighed on his mind more and more each day, despite his efforts to ignore them. But they each had a job to do, and they couldn't let their emotions get in the way of that. "Are you ready, Lord Braska?" he asked.

Braska nodded. "Let's go."

They continued up the steep path, winding their way up the side of the mountain. After a short, dangerous journey, they found themselves outside the main gate. The sight of the tall, blue, lion-like people did not startle Jecht. He'd gotten used to seeing unusual things in Spira.

What he _didn't_ expect to see was the fight breaking out between three Ronso. The two taller ones ganged up the shorter one, shoving him and knocking him down. The taller Ronso let out a loud laugh. "Poor little Kimahri! Not worthy of mountain."

"Is Kimahri going to cry?" the second Ronso said. "Yenke will give Kimahri something to cry about!"

"Kimahri shames mountain," the first Ronso said. "Kimahri must pay for shaming Ronso name."

The smaller Ronso, Kimahri, pushed himself up from the ground and stood tall, keeping his head up.

"Why doesn't Kimahri fight back?" the taller Ronso asked. "Kimahri afraid of Biran?"

Kimahri bent down to scoop of his lance lying on the ground at his feet. As soon as it was in his hands, Biran yanked it away from him and snapped it in two across his legs. He tossed the broken pieces aside and crossed his arms. "Kimahri will walk down mountain with nothing."

"We should do something," Jecht said. "This doesn't seem right."

He started forward, but Auron placed a hand out to stop him. "Best not to interfere. This isn't our problem."

"Look at what they're doing to that guy!" Jecht said. "We can't just watch!"

"No, Jecht."

"It's the right thing to do!"

"Not this time."

"Braska?"

Braska shook his head. "Auron is right, Jecht. I'm sorry."

Kimahri looked down and turned away from his opponents. As soon as he turned, however, Yenke grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back, socking him hard in the face. Kimahri fell flat on his back, landing with a heavy thud. Together, Yenke and Biran advanced on him. Yenke pinned Kimahri to the ground while Biran crouched over Kimahri, seizing the long, sharp horn on his head. "Biran says Kimahri will leave with _nothing_. Biran means nothing!"

Jecht's stomach dropped when he realized what the loud snap was that followed. He involuntarily lunged forward, but Auron caught him again. The cry of pain that came from the Ronso was more than he could bear—and everyone else just _watched_. What was wrong with these people?

Biran and Yenke stood up, admiring their relic and laughing at Kimahri's suffering. The poor Ronso lay on the ground, clutching his head where the horn should've been. In its place was a bony stump.

"Now Kimahri may leave sacred mountain," Yenke snarled.

It took Kimahri a few moments to gather his strength and climb to his feet once more. This time when he did, the brutes did not bother him anymore. Every Ronso watched him slowly stagger away, coming in the direction from which Braska and his guardians had just come. They promptly moved out of the way as he approached, making his walk of shame down the mountain.

"Hey," Jecht said. Kimahri stopped walking, but he did not look at Jecht, nor did he take his hand off his head.

Jecht didn't know what he wanted to say. That he was sorry? That it was wrong? That he would avenge Kimahri? He had no idea. He just wanted him to know that someone wasn't okay with what had happened, that someone pitied him.

But no words came out. He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry. Never mind."

A silent moment later, Kimahri continued down the mountain. No one made a sound until he was completely gone. But even though he had left, the memory stayed with Jecht. He turned toward the two Ronso who had broken his horn. Anger flared up inside his chest at the sight of their grinning faces. "Hey!" he cried. "What's your problem?"

All heads turned their way. The two Ronso, Biran and Yenke, looked confused for a moment. They probably weren't used to anyone standing up to them. After realizing that Jecht was indeed talking to them, they approached the group. In person, they were well over seven feet tall, muscular, and mean-looking. "You summoner, yes?" Biran asked, his voice a low growl.

Braska bowed. "I am Summoner Braska from Bevelle. I am here to gain passage into Zanarkand."

"Summoner travels far to reach sacred mountain of Gagazet," he said. "But summoner must prove himself worthy of mountain."

Jecht glanced behind him as two more Ronso closed in on them. "What's the big idea?" he cried.

"It's all right, Jecht," Braska said. "It's a Ronso tradition."

"Like breaking that other guy's horn?"

"Ronso problem," Yenke said. "Little Kimahri too weak. Not worthy to call mountain home. Little Kimahri will find new home."

"You fight, summoner," Biran ordered. "You win, you pass. You lose, you leave Gagazet."

"We ain't goin' anywhere," Jecht protested. "We've come this far, and we're _going_ to Zanarkand!"

The Ronso shoved him hard in the shoulder. "Summoner will fight. No guardians allowed."

"I don't think so, buddy!"

"Jecht," Auron said. "Let's go. Braska will be okay."

After shooting Biran a deadly glare, Jecht followed after Auron. The two Ronso behind them escorted the guardians to the side where they could still see. Meanwhile, Biran and Yenke circled around Braska in slow steps like preying lions.

"I don't like this at all," Jecht said, crossing his arms.

"Neither do I," Auron replied. "But we cannot pass without permission from the Ronso. They are the mountain's gatekeepers." Although somewhere deep down inside, Auron hoped Braska would fail. If he failed, he could not face Sin.

"Biran and Yenke will make you earn the mountain, summoner," Yenke declared with a dark chuckle. He armed himself with his lance and planted it firmly in the ground. "Your move."

Braska reached a hand toward the heavens and summoned his staff. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead into the head of his staff, then lifted it toward the sky. A gold haze of light came down around him, casting a protection spell over him.

Biran eyed Braska with a snarl, walking a circle around him. He stopped behind the summoner, twirled his lance, and charged. Braska stepped out of the way at precisely the right moment, casting a fire spell at the Ronso as he passed. The Ronso stumbled a bit but quickly regained his footing, glaring at Braska.

Yenke stepped forward next. He drew back and inhaled, then fired a ball of fire at Braska. He deflected the first attack with his staff, but Yenke surprised him with a second fireball. Braska was able to dodge most of it, but a small amount of flames grazed his arm, singeing his robe and burning his flesh. He dropped to the ground, clutching his wound.

Jecht took a step forward, but Auron stopped him once again. "He'll be all right," Auron assured him—although a part of him was worried, too. These Ronso played rough.

Before Braska had returned to his feet, Biran was at the ready. He waved his arm as if casting a spell, absorbing some of Braska's health. The summoner stumbled backwards, weakened by the attack. Yenke took advantage of the moment and charged at Braska, striking him so hard in his passing that the summoner did a half-flip in the air before landing flat on his face.

As Braska pushed himself to his feet, Biran pounded his chest, let out a laugh, and rushed past him in the same manner as Yenke had, smacking him with his lance on the way by. Braska collapsed face-first into the snow, not moving.

"Hey!" Jecht shouted. "You aren't playing fair!"

Yenke laughed again. "If summoner can't defeat Biran and Yenke, summoner will _never_ defeat Sin!"

"You aren't even giving him a chance!"

"Summoner had chance," Biran snorted. "Summoner lost."

"He hasn't lost yet," Jecht said.

Yenke looked back at Braska and nudged him with his foot. He still didn't move. Auron and Jecht exchanged worried glances. "They won't really hurt him…will they?" Jecht asked.

Auron looked back at the summoner, resisting the urge with all his might to rush to his aid. "No. They can't. It's…it's against the rules." But even he wasn't sure at this point. Braska looked to be seriously injured. Did they subject every summoner to this humiliation and torture?

Biran laughed. "Looks like summoner is broken. Guardians will have to carry summoner down the mountain."

"We'll fight in his place," Jecht declared, taking a step forward.

"That is not how this works," Yenke replied, shaking his head. "Summoner failed. Summoner must leave."

"But…he didn't fail." Jecht pointed past them, and they turned to find the summoner climbing to his feet. He drew back his staff and lifted his arm, casting a fire spell at both of the Ronsos' feet. Yenke leapt out of the way but Biran tripped and fell on his back.

Yenke advanced, but this time, Braska was faster. He stepped out of the way, tripping the Ronso with his staff as he passed. Then he doublecast a series of thundaga spells, striking both Ronso several times. Yenke tried to get up and fight, but Braska would not relent. He waved his staff at the Ronso, sending a burst of holy magic his way. Yenke flew backwards, striking his head against the wall behind him. He slumped forward onto his face, half-conscious and groaning in pain.

"Brother!" Biran cried. He faced his opponent with an ugly scowl on his face and charged at Braska, knocking him down. This time, though, Braska hurried back to his feet. Biran leapt at the summoner and swung his lance, which Braska attempted to deflect but failed. The Ronso raised his weapon to strike, but Braska hoisted his staff and struck him with a blast of holy magic, just as he'd done to Yenke.

The Ronso flew backwards several yards, sliding to a halt at the feet of his peers. At that moment, the mountain was silent. All eyes went to Braska as he slowly made his way toward his fallen enemy. Towering over the Ronso, he drew back his staff, flipping it around in his hands so that the sharp edge of the head was just inches from Biran's throat. The Ronso awaited his execution with wide, horrified eyes, but it did not come. Braska took a step back and planted his staff in the ground. "Well, Ronso?" he asked. "Am I worthy of the mountain?"

Biran slowly rose to his feet, evidently in pain. Clutching his arm, he took two steps toward Braska, stopping just inches from him. He met his gaze. "Summoner…is worthy. Biran is honored to grant passage."

Braska bowed. "Thank you."

Biran dropped to one knee and dipped his head. "Summoner Braska will defeat Sin. All of Gagazet will sing your name. Great statue will be made in your honor."

All around, the rest of the Ronso tribe dropped to their knees as Biran did. Jecht and Auron followed suit. No matter how they felt about Braska facing Sin, he was more than worthy to continue. More worthy than anyone.

"Summoner go now," Yenke said, standing up and approaching his brother's side. "Summoner reach Zanarkand. Summoner defeat Sin."

Braska bowed one last time. "Spira will know peace again. Thank you, Sir Ronso."

Jecht and Auron rejoined with Braska, and together the three of them continued up the mountain. They did not look back.

The journey up the cold, windy mountain proved to be more difficult than anticipated. They didn't get far before Braska stopped. "I'd like to…record something for my daughter. If that's all right."

"Of course," Jecht said. "Auron. Let's give him some privacy."

Reluctantly, Auron left Braska's side. He and Jecht crossed to the other side of the path and gazed out into the endless white landscape. Silence passed between them, interrupted only by the sound of the strong breeze blowing by.

Auron looked down at the snow and dug his toe into the powder. "I wish…I wish he had failed."

He expected Jecht to either agree with him or gasp in total shock, but he only glanced at Auron. "He still would've found a way up the mountain."

Auron nodded. "Isn't there any way we could…?"

Jecht sighed. "He's set on this, Auron. He's been set on this since the beginning, and even before that."

"If anyone can persuade him, it's us."

"Auron," Jecht said, looking him in the eye. "It's not gonna happen. Braska will defeat Sin, no matter what it takes."

Auron turned around, suddenly feeling angry. "A few days ago, you said the same things I'm saying. I thought you would agree with me. I thought you would understand."

"I understand better than anyone. But…I guess I've accepted that this is just how it's gonna be."

"Just like that?" Auron demanded.

"You know Braska. Nothing will change his mind. Best we can do is be there to protect him. He can't do this alone, Auron."

Auron shook his head. "It seems we've switched places."

Jecht chuckled. "Yeah. So it seems."

"Well…I don't care what either of you say. I…I cannot accept this."

"There's nothin' else you can do."

"Hmph. We'll see."

At the bottom of the passage, Braska placed a sphere on a rock, adjusting it so that he was in view. He sighed and did his best to put on a smile. That was a lot more difficult to do lately than it had been when all this began.

"Hello, Yuna," he began. "I hope you are well. I wonder how old you are now that you're watching this sphere. You must be very beautiful, like your mother. I wish I could see you."

Feeling rather emotional, he turned away from the camera, waiting for the tears to dry up. When he felt well enough to fake a smile again, he turned back around. "Oh, by the way—Jecht and Auron send their regards. So far, our journey has been very entertaining. Of course, it's a hard journey, but I have no regrets. It is the path I have chosen.

"Yuna, when you are grown, you will have to find your own path. Do what you must do, the way you want to do it. Doors will always open themselves to those who do."

He paused for a moment, picturing his daughter's sweet face and the last time he'd seen it. It seemed so long ago. "Listen close, Yuna: your future is yours to make. Live the life the way you want to, whatever that way may be. You have your father's full support."

Despite his tears, he gave her one last, big smile. "Yuna, I will always be with you."

* * *

By nightfall, they reached the other side of the mountain. They stopped at a flat, rocky outcrop overlooking the ruined city of Zanarkand below. Shrouded in darkness and abandonment, Jecht had never seen his city looking so sad. What once was alight with life now lay in desolation. It broke his heart to see it in such a state. For Jecht, it was a symbol of his lost dream.

"So that's Zanarkand," Jecht said.

"Apparently so," Braska replied. "I never thought I'd actually see it myself. I don't believe my own eyes."

Jecht chuckled. "That's definitely not the way I remember it."

Braska laughed along with him. "No, I wouldn't imagine so." He turned away and took a good look at the area where they'd found themselves. "I think this is a fine place to rest for the evening. What do you two think?"

"Works for me," Jecht answered.

"Auron?"

Auron continued to stare out at the city below. Like Braska, he never thought he'd see the holy land of Zanarkand either, yet there he stood. Kinoc had once asked him to return with tales of his travels to Zanarkand, but there would be nothing to say. How could he recount that grief to anyone?

Far at the north end of the city, he could see the Zanarkand blitzball dome. Their journey would end there. Once he and Jecht left, Braska would not leave with them. Auron did not want to take another step down the mountain.

"Did you hear me?"

Auron faced Braska. "I'm sorry?"

"We're going to stop here for the night. Are you all right with that?"

"Oh…yes. That's fine."

"I'll get us a fire going," Jecht offered. He left the group to search for flint and tinder. In his absence, silence followed.

"Auron, are you all right?" Braska asked after a few minutes. "You've been too quiet since we left Guadosalam."

Auron considered the easy response: brush it off and pretend everything was just fine. But since all this began, he hadn't once voiced his own thoughts. If Braska wouldn't listen to Jecht, maybe he would listen to Auron. "No, my lord," he replied. "I'm not all right. I…I don't think you should go through with this."

Braska looked out into the night. "I was wondering when you'd break, too."

"Then…you don't think I'm out of line?"

"You're entitled to feel the way you do. And I knew this would come at some point."

"I've kept my feelings to myself since I became your guardian," Auron replied. "I've done whatever you've asked of me, without question or protest. But this…I cannot stand by and watch."

"You know what this means, Auron. My passing will bring a new Calm. You will be there to see it."

Auron shook his head. "It means nothing if you aren't there, too."

"It means everything. Life is never painless, and a select few of us are called to do what others can't. We should do what we've been called to do."

"How can you ask me to let you do this?"

"The same way I asked you so many days ago in Macalania," he replied, facing his guardian. "With a heavy heart and an unbreakable will. Your concern for me is truly honorable, but…it will not change anything. I'm sorry, my friend."

Auron looked away, ignoring the stinging in his eyes.

"Can I still count on you, Auron?" Braska asked gently. "Will you go with me to Zanarkand? Will you look after my daughter?"

If Auron was stronger—or perhaps weaker—he would walk away now so he didn't have to see the end. He would never be able to live that memory down, but if he walked away now, he would never be able to live with the haunting guilt. This was just a sickness that had to run its course. There was no escaping it.

Auron closed his eyes. "Yes, my lord. I'm not going anywhere."

Braska placed a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"This should last through the night," Jecht called. They turned around and found him arriving with an armload of wood. He dumped the kindling into a heap on the ground in front of them, then knelt down and began striking two rough stones together.

A fire was burning within minutes. The three of them took seats around the fire and watched the flames dance toward the sky. Nobody said much. There just wasn't anything left to say. All that remained was the final walk down the mountain and into the ruins. The time had come.

Jecht leaned forward and poked at the fire with a stick. "You know, the fayth told me there was another way," he said.

Auron frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He came to me in a dream. Said something about _me_ needing to find a way to stop Sin. Maybe…maybe there _is_ another way."

"It was just a dream, Jecht."

"Felt pretty real to me."

"Well, do you have any other ideas?"

"Well…no. Not yet."

"Hm." Auron looked down. "It was just a dream. There is no other way."

Jecht tossed the stick into the fire and leaned back on his hands. "I'll think of somethin'." Maybe it was just a dream, but if it wasn't, Jecht had to find a way to end this. He had accepted that his own world lay behind him. Now, it was about looking forward.

And looking forward meant finding a way to destroy Sin—for good.

* * *

 **Good thing Kimahri comes back in FFX and whoops Biran and Yenke. They deserved it.**

 **We only have three more chapters left until the end! I'm sad. :( Chapter 17 will be posted next Thursday, 9/17. See you there!**


	17. The Truth Revealed

**Hello, everyone. I guess I don't need to remind you all that it's only going to get sadder...but I will anyway. It's going to get sadder. I hope I can make you cry, though. That means I've done my job as a writer!**

 **Oh...and there's a sorta Crisis Core quote in there somewhere...see if you can spot it. :)**

 **fanficlove2014:** Hm...I hadn't thought about that. There's an idea! I feel like a story about Auron's adventures fulfilling his promises would be a lot shorter...but who knows? I'm sure I could find a way to milk it and drag it out. If I do write that story, it won't be for a while. School has consumed my soul once again, and I've got to finish my personal novel before I start on something else. But maybe an Auron story could be next...

* * *

The ruins of Zanarkand were even darker up close. The sight of it made Jecht shiver. The worst part was that he recognized a lot of the buildings they saw. There was the blitzball shop, and beside it was the park. Down the street was the sphere theater, and across from that was the restaurant he and Elena had eaten at countless times. Residential buildings had completely collapsed, and the ground beneath them looked as if an earthquake had cracked it into pieces.

Jecht would do all he could to keep away from his own home. To see it in such a state of decay, well…he couldn't handle it. They just needed to get things over with, as much as he hated the idea of completing the pilgrimage.

"How did it get to be this way?" Jecht muttered.

"The Machina War between Zanarkand and Bevelle one thousand years ago," Braska replied. "Since then, Sin has been with us as a reminder and punishment for using the forbidden machina that led to our ruin in the first place."

"A city in ruins for a thousand years," Jecht mused. "It's a damn shame. Used to be quite the place."

"I wish I could've seen it," Braska said quietly. "If only we could go back to Zanarkand with you."

Jecht looked away. "Yeah. If only." He drew in a deep breath and set forward. "Well, I guess we should get going."

"Yes," Braska said. He followed after Jecht, but Auron didn't move. He watched the two of them continue up the path through the rubble. They were both gracious enough not to make mention of his lagging. He played over all the possible things he could do and say to stop Braska, but none of it would work. Nothing would stop him. He had an unbreakable will, just like he said.

It took them just shy of an hour to reach the dome at the northernmost edge of the city. The tall double doors that had once paved the way into Jecht's home away from home had been destroyed. The stadium itself had been decimated, as if someone had torn the roof away completely. Pyreflies swirled at the entrance like guardians to the gateway.

"It's a damn shame," Jecht repeated. He'd made this walk so many times, usually with a crowd of devoted fans behind him. Now there was no one. Just the three of them. Soon there would only be two.

"This is where you played?" Braska asked.

"Three times a week, at least," Jecht replied. "Practically lived here."

They allowed for a moment of silence, looking up at the massive stadium. It certainly was a shame, Auron thought. The entire situation was a shame. That they had to be here, that Jecht had been taken away from home, that Braska would have to die—all of it was a damn shame.

During their pause, an elderly man appeared as if from nowhere, coming down the steps leading into the dome. "Journeyer of the long road, name yourself," he said.

"I am Summoner Braska of Bevelle," Braska answered.

"Show me your eyes, summoner." He approached Braska and looked into his soul, standing just inches away. He nodded a moment later. "Your travels show in your eyes. Lady Yunalesca awaits you. You and your guardians may proceed."

Braska bowed. "Thank you."

Together they continued into the dome. The air inside was damp and musty, a sure sign of the lack of recent visitors. No one had set foot inside the dome since the last summoner came to defeat Sin. Since then, the place had been entirely silent.

The walkway was intact for the most part, but here and there they found themselves dangerously close to slipping and falling into the black abyss below. Jecht never imagined that the next time he'd be in the dome, it would be for something other than blitzball. And if this was to be one of the last times he'd see it, then it was a good way to go.

When at last they reached the end of the path, Jecht stopped walking. He'd said it before, but it couldn't hurt to say it again. After all, it was worth a try. "Hey, Braska," he said. "You don't have to do this."

Braska didn't even look back. "Thank you for your concern," he replied.

 _See?_ the voice in his head said. _No point in wasting your breath._ With a sigh, he crossed his arms. "Fine. I said my piece."

"Well, I haven't!" Auron burst out. Jecht looked at him, at his furrowed brows and the genuine distress in his face. Never had he seen the man in such a state. Auron had been so kept together until a day or so ago. Now, as they found themselves at the water's edge, he could no longer contain himself—and Jecht, surprisingly, could. Perhaps it made sense, after all. Braska was going to his death, and Auron was in denial. Jecht, however, had accepted it. He'd accepted everything.

"Lord Braska," Auron cried, "let us go back! I don't want to see you…die!"

Braska looked over his shoulder. "You knew this was to happen, my friend," he reminded him gently.

"Yes," Auron said, "but I…I cannot accept it."

Braska chuckled, although nothing about the situation was funny. "Auron, I am honored that you care for me so. But I have come to kill grief itself. I will defeat Sin and lift the veil of sorrow covering Spira." He looked up at the sky, at the hazy black clouds above. "Please understand, Auron."

"I can't," Auron replied, shaking his head. "I…I won't!"

"Auron," Jecht said quietly. "We have to go. That's all there is to it."

"Yes, but…" Giving up, he closed his eyes and turned around. His stomach was in knots. His head was pounding. His entire body ached. The emotional weight of the journey weighed on him more than any physical pain.

Jecht and Braska continued into the dome without waiting for him. Whether he went along or not, Braska would still go through with this. He turned and dragged himself after the others, each step heavy and slow, like he was moving through quicksand.

They wound through the adjoining hallway and up the collapsed stairwell. "Are the Trials ahead?" Jecht asked.

"Probably," Braska replied.

"Here, too, huh?" Jecht sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Give me a break. I was expecting—you know—parades and fireworks!"

"You can ask for them after I defeat Sin." Without looking back, he continued through the next doorway and on to the Cloister of Trials, the final Cloister they would encounter on their journey.

 _There won't be much worth celebrating after that,_ Auron thought. Sin would be gone, but at a terrible cost. It was only now that he understood just how damn ridiculous the Final Summoning was—and not just the Final Summoning, but all the teachings of Yevon. Sacrificing summoners for a minute of peace was definitely _not_ worth it. They were people, too, only the people of Spira failed to understand that. They idolized the summoners, they respected them, but they could never fully comprehend what they went through to bring peace.

"The price of freedom is steep," Auron said. "Isn't it?"

Jecht glanced back at him, stopping on the stairs for just a second. Then, he continued forward.

Auron stood as tall as he could and followed after the others into the Cloister of Trials.

* * *

"What is this?" Jecht cried as they reached the Chamber of the Fayth. "This place is different, ain't it?"

Braska gazed into the statue buried in the ground. "Yes," he said. "It's an empty statue."

"I don't get it. Isn't this where the Final Aeon is supposed to be?"

"It is," Braska replied. "I…I don't understand."

Auron's heart skipped a beat. Maybe that meant Braska wouldn't have to face Sin after all. Maybe they would just have to go back home and be done with it. Maybe there was some type of glitch, something they'd missed, and weren't able to continue. He felt guilty for hoping so, but then how _should_ he feel?

The man who had welcomed them to the dome materialized again before them, coming through the hazy blue force field blocking their path through the next door. "Where's the Final Aeon?" Jecht demanded. "We didn't go through all this for nothing!"

"That statue lost its power long ago," the old man explained. "It is of Lord Zaon, the first fayth of the Final Summoning."

"So how do we get it?" Jecht asked.

"Lady Yunalesca will show you the way. The summoner and the Final Aeon will join powers. Beyond this door, the lady awaits. Go to her now." He vanished again, leaving behind only a trail of pyreflies.

"Who's this Lady Yunalesca everyone keeps talkin' about?" Jecht asked.

"She was the first summoner ever to defeat Sin, and brought about the first Calm," Braska replied.

"She'll tell us what to do then?"

"I suppose we'll find out. Let's go."

They passed through the blue door and found themselves inside another chamber which, just like the rest of the dome, was in ruins. They stopped in the middle of the empty room and looked around, expecting to find someone, but no one was there.

They only had to wait a moment, however, before the doors at the top of the stairs opened and a woman with long white hair emerged. Barefoot and scantily clad, she made her way down the steps. As she approached Braska, the faintest of smiles appeared on her lips. "Summoner," she said. "Welcome to Zanarkand."

Braska bowed deeply. "Thank you, my lady."

"You have my sincerest congratulations for making it this far, and for completing your pilgrimage. I know it has been a long, hard journey, but it will soon be worth it. I will now bestow you with that which you seek." She stretched out her arms. "The Final Summoning will be yours."

Auron's heart sank. Even in his brief moment of hope, he'd known this would still happen. There was no escaping it. A waterfall of tears threatened to erupt, but he clenched his jaw and held back his sorrow.

"Now you must choose," Lady Yunalesca continued. "Who will become the fayth of the Final Summoning?"

Braska drew back. "I…I don't understand."

"There must be a bond between summoner and chosen," she explained. "That is how the Final Aeon and its summoner will join powers."

"What kinda bond?" Jecht asked suspiciously.

"The bond between a husband and wife, a father and his child, or between friends. It is this bond that will defeat Sin, for the power rests within the strength of this bond. My husband, Zaon, was my chosen fayth. Because our bond was so strong, I obtained the Final Aeon and vanquished Sin."

"And you died," Jecht finished. "Because that's what happens when the summoner gets the Final Aeon."

"Death should not be feared," she replied. "Through death, you will be free of your sorrow. And your death will free all of Spira from its pain."

"Summoners are not so disposable," Auron argued.

"But they have chosen to make the sacrifice, and through their sacrifice, Spira continues to live."

She approached Braska. "Now tell me, Summoner: who will you choose?"

Braska looked down and shook his head. "I…do not know."

She turned away. "Take your time and consider it. When you've made your choice, come find me." She climbed the stairs and vanished.

As soon as she was gone, Auron exploded. "It is not too late!" he cried. "Let us turn back!"

Braska took steps toward the stairs, stopping to look over his shoulder at Auron. "If I turn back, who will defeat Sin?" he asked. "Would you have some other summoner and his guardians go through this?"

"But…my lord. There must be another way!" He and Jecht had both been saying it for days, and somehow, he hoped that if it was said enough, Braska would truly consider it—and not go through with this.

"This is the only way we got now," Jecht said. The next words caught in his throat. "Fine," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "Make _me_ the fayth."

Auron and Braska turned to face him, both wide-eyed and shocked.

"I've been doing some thinking," Jecht continued. "My dream is back in the other Zanarkand. I wanted to make that runt into a star blitz player, show him the view from the top, you know? But now I know there's no way home for me. I'm never gonna see him again. My dream's never gonna come true. So make _me_ the fayth. I'll fight Sin with you, Braska. Then maybe my life will have meaning, you know?"

Auron thought he would burst. "Don't do this, Jecht! If you live, there may be another way! We'll think of something, I know!"

"Believe me. I've thought this through." He gazed up at the ceiling. "Besides…I ain't gettin' any younger, so I might as well make myself useful."

Days ago, he'd come to terms with the fact that he wouldn't be going home. Sin had brought him here, and that was all there was to it. There was no secret way back home, no matter how hard he wished for it.

The fayth had once told him that neither he nor his Zanarkand was real, and with each day he spent in Spira, the more he realized it was true. The fayth had also told him to find a way to stop Sin. This was how he would do it.

"Jecht?" Braska said, approaching him.

"What?" he said. "You're not gonna try to stop me, too?"

Braska looked away. "Sorry. I mean…thank you."

Jecht sighed and placed a hand on each of Braska's shoulders. "Braska still has to fight Sin, Auron."

Auron looked up, his eyes shining with tears. Jecht took two steps toward the stairs, stopping alongside Auron and crossing his arms, like he had more to say. "Guard him well. Make sure he gets there."

Auron tried to say something, anything, but no words came out. They lodged in his throat, choking him. A million thoughts raced through his mind, a million things he wanted to say: _Don't go. It's not worth it. Spira still needs you. I still need you._

"Well," Jecht said. "Let's go."

As they started up the stairs, Auron whipped around to face them. "Lord Braska! Jecht!"

"What do you want now?" Jecht said, stopping.

"Sin always comes back," Auron said weakly. "It comes back after the Calm every time. The cycle will continue and your deaths will mean nothing!"

"But there's always a chance it won't come back this time," Braska argued. "It's worth trying."

"I understand what you're saying, Auron," Jecht said. "I'll find a way to break the cycle."

"You…have a plan?"

"Jecht?" Braska said.

"Trust me," Jecht promised. "I'll think of something." With a loud laugh—one that defied any further protests or disbelief—he and Braska continued up the stairs. Auron watched them leave, feeling rooted to the earth. He wanted to chase them down, to knock them out and drag them all the way back to Bevelle, but he could not move. He could hardly breathe.

The doors opened, and Lord Braska and Jecht walked into the darkness beyond. Auron reached a hand forward as tears streamed down his cheeks. A moment later, the doors slammed shut.

The weight of a broken heart, Auron learned, was like being pulled down to the earth. He sank to his knees and wept.

* * *

 **Sadness. :( That flashback with the three of them always gets to me! Ugh. WHY ARE YOU SO SAD, FINAL FANTASY?!**

 **Anyway...we have two more chapters until the end. I'm sad it's almost over. Chapter 18 will be posted on Thursday night, 9/24. See you guys then!**


	18. The Final Summoning

***sad voice* Back again. You know what that means. We get to be sad again.**

 **Alas, the Final Summoning is upon us. Read on!**

 **fanficlove2014:** That's true. There are several ways I could do Auron's "pilgrimage." Maybe once this semester is over, I will lay out a plot line and try it. For some reason, when it comes to sequels, I am cursed. I always get stuck and/or bored with them and never finish them, so I don't want to make any promises.

 **reibunriinta:** Ugh, God. Why does Final Fantasy do this? Crisis Core made me sob like a baby. So did Kingdom Hearts, and Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, and anything else that Square Enix has a hand in. UGHGHGHGHGHHH. Yes, the Al Bhed were definitely onto something...

* * *

Jecht and Braska walked together in silence to the platform beyond the chamber where they had left Auron. They found themselves suspended high above the earth, walking among the stars. The platform seemed to float in the middle of space, as if they had left Spira completely.

They stopped at the top of the stairs and didn't move. They didn't say anything. They both knew what this meant. They both knew that the time had come. Braska never imagined that saying goodbye to Jecht would happen this way. He almost wanted to protest, to tell Jecht to go back with Auron. There had to be a way back home for him.

But then who would become the fayth? Who could Braska ask to give his own life on Braska's behalf? He would have gladly given his own life for Spira, but to sacrifice one of his own loved ones was almost more than he could bear.

"Jecht," Braska said gently. "Before this happens, I just want to tell you that…well, your company has been a great pleasure to me."

Jecht chuckled. "Yeah. I hope I didn't bug you too much. I know I can grate people's nerves sometimes."

"Not mine," Braska replied. "I would never have asked for another guardian. Even one who doesn't strike at shoopufs in a drunken rage."

Jecht looked away, but Braska laughed. "Sorry about that," Jecht muttered.

"Don't be," Braska said. "Don't be sorry for anything. Everything that happened, happened just as it should have. I would not change a single moment." He turned away from Jecht, gazing out into the stars. "I'm only sorry you didn't get to see your son again."

Jecht closed his eyes, picturing his little runt back in Zanarkand. It had only been days since he'd last seen him, but it might as well have been months—or even years. Since this was the end for him, time didn't really matter.

If there was some way he could see him again, or even just get a message to him, he'd tell him he was proud of him. He'd tell him that he absolutely, undoubtedly has what it takes to become the next Jecht. He would tell him that all the jesting and kidding and prodding was all in good fun, that he never actually meant any of it. He would tell him that he believed in him, and that whatever he wanted to do, he could do. He only needed to work for it.

"Yeah," Jecht said. "I am, too. But…since there's no way back to Zanarkand, this is the best way to strike out, right? Go down in a blaze of glory, you know? I always thought when it was my time, I'd leave a mark on the world. Now I can."

Braska faced him again and smiled. "I am glad to have you here with me. Your presence, your friendship—they are comforting."

Jecht nodded. "And…what about little Yuna? Will she be all right?"

"She is strong," Braska said. "I know she will go far in life. I will be with her every step of the way."

"Good," Jecht said. "I wish I could've shown her some blitzball tricks."

"She will always remember you—and your funny clothes."

"Ha! Ain't that the truth?"

At the far end of the platform, Lady Yunalesca materialized and came their way. "Summoner," she said. "Have you made your choice?"

"I have," Braska replied. "Sir Jecht is to become the fayth."

Lady Yunalesca looked at the chosen one. "Very good," she said. "Then if you are ready, we will proceed."

Braska and Jecht exchanged glances. "This is it," Jecht said. "Thanks for everything, Braska. I always knew you would defeat Sin."

"I could not do it without you, my friend."

Jecht puffed up his chest, drew in a deep breath, and marched toward Lady Yunalesca. He didn't dare look back. All the way across the platform, his mind remained on the image of his wife and son. He picture them at sea with him, on one of their old familiar trips they'd taken time and again. It was the happiest place he'd ever been. He would leave this world with that image in his head.

"Sin is drawn to the Final Aeon," Yunalesca explained. "You may only call it once, Summoner, before Sin seeks it out. You must prepare yourself accordingly."

"I understand," Braska said.

She nodded. Then, she lifted both hands over her head.

A beam of energy came down from the sky and struck her hands, coalescing into a ball of lightning. She lowered both arms to her sides, creating a dome of energy over her. The electricity crackled through the sphere globe, and the dome grew larger. She gestured for Jecht to come forward.

Jecht swallowed the lump in his throat, making his way into the dome of energy. A tickle spread over his body as he crossed through the force field. Inside the dome of energy, it was entirely silent. He locked eyes with Yunalesca, his heart thundering away. She reached a hand forward and placed it in the center of his chest. "Thank you, Sir Jecht."

Jecht nodded. "For Spira. Right?"

She smiled sadly. The dome of energy compressed into a small ball once more, channeled directly into Jecht's chest. He staggered backwards as the energy burned through his skin, illuminating his veins in spiderwebs of gold. He dropped to his knees and clutched his chest, feeling like he might pass out.

He could feel himself changing. His body, his mind, all of it. He looked down at his hands and found his arms growing longer, growing larger. His nails grew into sharp talons, and large scales cracked across the surface of his skin. He could feel something sharp pushing through his back as the rest of his body expanded like a giant balloon.

All of his memories, all of his thoughts, all of his dreams—they slowly faded away. The image of his wife's beautiful face slowly disappeared. His son's smile popped like a bubble on a hot summer day. Everything began to disappear from him, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it. It was as if he was becoming a machine. Slowly, he was losing control of himself.

Jecht could still see what he was doing, but it was like being in a drunken fog, or even a dream. Lady Yunalesca had disappeared once again. Somewhere behind him, he heard Braska calling, although it was silent.

"Jecht."

* * *

The Final Aeon turned toward the summoner. Braska took slow steps toward him, gazing up into his glowing white eyes. His friend was no longer there. This hulking thing in front of him was now just a beast at his beckoning. Sir Jecht was gone.

"Jecht," Braska said again. He reached his staff toward the aeon. "Are you still in there?"

Jecht only stared at him, lifeless and empty.

"My dear friend," Braska whispered. "What has become of you? Why did this have to happen?"

For a moment, they both remained where they were, staring at each other. Nothing else mattered anymore. Not even Sin. Jecht had become a monster, and for what? To save Spira, of course, but at such a cost. In hindsight, Braska thought it would be worth it, but seeing _this_ , seeing what had become of a man who was now like family to him, made him question everything.

"Jecht," Braska called. "We must go now. Sin will come for us. You and I…we must defeat it. Together."

Jecht made a grunting noise that convinced Braska he agreed with him, though he couldn't be sure. The aeon was under his control, but nothing else. Free will no longer existed for him. "Please," Braska said. "Help me."

Jecht bowed to Braska. Heavy-hearted, Braska waved his staff and dismissed the aeon. They still had a ways to go before he would need to return. "I will see you soon, my friend," Braska said. With that, a ray of light shined down from the sky, absorbing the aeon. A moment later, the platform was completely empty.

Braska returned to the previous chamber where he found Auron waiting at the steps for him. Braska descended the stairs, stopping at the last one and meeting Auron's eye. For a moment, they both just stood there, looking at each other. No one wanted to stay anything. No one knew what to say anyway.

"It is done?" Auron finally asked.

Braska nodded.

"Then…I suppose we ought to…get going."

"Yes."

Braska walked past him, and Auron watched. He had hoped that somehow, Braska would've returned and said that the Final Summoning hadn't worked—or that he'd changed his mind after all. But of course, each of his hopes was futile. Sighing, he slowly tagged along after the summoner.

They'd already come this far. There was no stopping now.

* * *

After a straight day of walking in total silence, Braska and Auron reached the Calm Lands by nightfall. There they stood in the endless expanse of green grass, underneath the twinkling night sky. Braska looked up and sighed. "Once I summon the Final Aeon," he said, "Sin will come."

Auron nodded. "What do you want me to do?"

Braska looked at him and smiled sadly. "You've done your job, Auron. You and Jecht safely led me to Zanarkand, and now I have the Final Aeon. There isn't anything more you can do."

Braska might as well have slapped him across the face. "How can you ask me to leave _now_?"

"It might be easier for you," Braska replied. "I…wouldn't want you to see this."

"I'm not leaving," Auron said, shaking his head. "After everything we've been through, I will not abandon you."

"It would be for your own good, Auron."

"This isn't about me."

"I only wish to spare you from further pain. You are free to go now. Return to Bevelle, and find my daughter. Take her to Besaid as you promised. _That_ is how you can fulfill your duties to me."

"I can go to Bevelle after you've fought Sin," Auron argued. "I will not leave you alone here."

Braska approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please. I order you to leave."

Auron's eyes filled with tears. Why didn't Braska want him there? He claimed to be worried about Auron's wellbeing, but why now, of all times? He'd already suffered the worst of it. He'd already lost Jecht, and had led Braska straight to his death. What difference did _now_ make?

But Braska would not let him stay behind. He would pick him up and drag him back to Bevelle if he had to, and all Auron would've done is slow him down. He wouldn't change Braska's mind. He _couldn't_ change Braska's mind.

At last, Auron nodded. He turned away, drew in a deep breath, and set forward. He did not look back.

* * *

Braska watched Auron leave, his eyes wet and his heart heavy. He was going to die, and that's all there was to it. Auron didn't need to see that. He and Jecht had done all they could to protect Braska during his pilgrimage—now it was Braska's turn to protect him.

He waited until Auron was out his sight, until he was sure that his guardian had truly left, before looking up at the sky. Then, he stretched his staff toward the heavens and summoned the Final Aeon.

A beam of light struck the staff, followed by Jecht, who swept down toward the earth and landed with a thud, shaking the ground beneath them. Braska gazed up at him and tried to smile. "Hello, again," he said. "It is time."

Jecht nodded and withdrew his sword, arming himself for battle, though he and Braska never broke eye contact. It was one thing to pray to a fayth and summon an aeon—it was an entirely different thing to watch a loved one become a mindless robot. Braska knew he needed to end this as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, they spotted something dark and large coming their way from the sky. It was Sin, without a doubt. No sooner than Braska had called the Final Aeon did the mighty beast come for them. Lady Yunalesca had not been exaggerating when she said Sin was drawn to the Final Aeon.

They stood their ground as Sin grew larger in their sights. Above them, Sin approached, descending toward the earth below. It turned its massive head their way, its mouth agape just slightly. For a moment, Braska wondered if this would work. Sin was so big, and they were so small. How was it possible that this had _ever_ worked?

But now, in the face of death itself, it was not the time to question the how's and why's of things. Braska drew in a deep breath, grasped his staff tightly, and made his way toward the beast before him.

Sin landed on the ground with a hard thud, shaking the earth beneath them so hard that both Braska and Jecht collapsed to their feet. Braska quickly stood up and lifted his staff high over his head. He twirled it twice, casting a force field around him. Sin let out an ear-splitting roar so loud, the ground beneath Braska's feet shook. Still, he did not relent. The beast opened its mouth and fired a beam of energy directly at Braska, but it could not penetrate the shield.

Braska and his aeon made eye contact, and the summoner gave an affirmative nod. The aeon approached Braska from behind and swung its mighty sword in Sin's direction. A beam of gold energy collided with Sin's attack, creating a powerful explosion of small colored sparks. Braska covered his head as they fell toward him.

"Jecht!" Braska cried. "Its armor is too thick! We must break through!"

Jecht nodded and turned back to Sin. He raised his sword toward the sky and a bolt of lightning came down to strike it. He spun around, then fired the bolt of lightning directly at Sin's face. The beast reared back from the impact.

"That's it," Braska said. "We must go in. Draw it to us!"

Jecht performed a series of offensive attacks against the enemy while Braska alternated with protective spells on himself and the aeon. With each attack, Sin drew closer. Several times, it cast a burst of magic at Braska and the aeon, but Braska's spells were powerful enough to protect them. When Jecht wasn't striking and Braska wasn't casting protection over the two of them, he threw in a holy spell and a flare spell to spice things up. The two of them alone were a formidable challenge for the mighty beast.

Finally, after almost an hour, and after everyone had worn themselves out, Sin opened its mouth and inhaled. the aeon shielded Braska while the summoner held his ground, expecting to be lifted right off his feet, but it did not come. A bright light came over him, followed by an icy breeze so chilling and bone-biting that he collapsed to his knees in shivers.

The cold lasted for what felt like hours before everything returned to normal. Slowly, Braska opened his eyes. His staff was still in his hands, but Jecht was nowhere around.

The cold he'd just experienced was gone, but the ache in his bones still lingered. He wearily pushed himself to his feet and tried to regain his bearings. Wherever he was, he had no idea. Had Sin really inhaled him, or was that just in his imagination?

Braska clutched his staff closely to his chest and started down the platform before him. All around were tall buildings, lit up in the black night in which he'd found himself. As far as the eye could see, there were buildings. No sea, no trees—just buildings.

And the silence! The dead quiet was so unnerving. Each step he took echoed like a scream in an empty church. The only thing worse was the solitude. Where _was_ he?

No matter how far he walked, the platform only continued to stretch. There was no end in sight. He wasn't sure if he'd been in this desolate city for five minutes or five hours. Each second that passed might as well have been a full minute. What was happening to him?

"You're not crazy," a woman's voice said.

Braska wheeled around to face a woman standing on a circular platform behind him—a platform that hadn't been there before. "I'm not?" he asked. It had been so long since he'd last spoken, his own voice sounded foreign to him.

The woman shook her head. "No. Lady Yocun thought the same thing when she, too, first arrived."

"Lady Yocun?" Braska asked. "Who exactly are you?"

The woman was dressed in the typical garb of a Bevelle warrior monk, wearing a green tunic and a silver helmet covering half of her face. Although the uniform looked a little dated, Braska recognized her as someone from Spira, not as someone from _this_ place. "My name is Amalia. I am—I was—a guardian to Lady Yocun. I became her chosen fayth."

"You are also a Final Aeon?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid I'm not anymore."

"What do you mean?" Braska asked. "If you were the Final Aeon before Jecht, shouldn't you be…? Does that mean that I…?"

Her sad eyes lowered to the ground as the realization came over Braska.

"You…you are Sin."

She nodded. "That's right."

"But…I don't understand. How is this possible?"

"Your Final Aeon will become Sin, too, and every Final Aeon to follow. Sin must exist so that this world"—she spread her arms to encompass the city around them—"can exist with it. This is Zanarkand, as it was a thousand years ago. Preserved by Yu Yevon, sustained by the fayth."

"Yu Yevon?"

"A summoner from Zanarkand one thousand years ago," she explained. "To protect the city from Bevelle during the Machina War, the people of Zanarkand became the fayth, keeping the city alive at Yu Yevon's behest."

Braska gazed out at the city. "So it is real. Jecht was telling the truth all along."

"You understand, don't you, Summoner?" Amalia asked. "Sin _must_ exist. Sin protects Zanarkand from dying. Without Sin, there would be no Zanarkand. That is why it always returns. It is Yu Yevon's will."

Braska faced her. "What are you saying? That Sin can never truly be defeated? That the teachings…are a lie?"

Amalia turned around and walked to the edge of the platform, staring into the night. "You already know the truth, don't you?"

Braska looked down at the staff in his hands. "Spira's hope has been false all along."

"Sin is a necessary evil," Amalia replied. "It is the very reason your friend, Sir Jecht, is with you today. Without Sin, he would not be."

Braska would not accept this. He did not come this far for nothing. This was Amalia's—no, _Sin's_ —polite request for him to back down, to go back to where he came from. He would not acquiesce.

He planted the heel of his staff in the ground with a loud thud. "No. This ends here and now."

"But it _can't_ ," she said. "You may defeat me, but it is Yu Yevon who will keep Sin alive."

"Then I will destroy Yu Yevon."

"It is too late. Once I am gone, Yu Yevon will take hold of your Final Aeon, and the cycle will repeat itself. Which is the lesser of two evils: to give up your friend's life, or to stay Spira's inevitable destruction for just a little while longer?"

Braska shook his head. "I came here to destroy Sin, and that is what I will do."

He took a step back and raised the head of his staff toward the black sky. At once, the Final Aeon swooped down and landed at his side with a thud, shaking the earth at his feet. This woman, Amalia, was as innocent as anyone else. She, too, was another casualty lost to the cause to bring peace to Spira. To defeat Sin, Braska would have to free her as well.

Jecht drew his sword with one hand and stretched the other toward Sin, sending a blast of magic energy her way. She stretched her arms over her head, deflecting Jecht's attack. Then, she spun in a circle and threw her arms toward the Final Aeon, striking him with a beam of energy.

While distracted with the Final Aeon, Braska cast a holy spell at Sin. Several orbs of holy magic pierced her, forcing her to her knees. Jecht swung his sword, sending her flying backwards.

Braska raised a hand to stop Jecht, then approached the fallen enemy and placed the head of his staff at her throat. "Where is Yu Yevon?" he demanded.

In the blink of an eye, she reached a hand up. A blast of invisible energy sent Braska flying backwards, tumbling head over feet.

Sin stood up. "I told you, Summoner. It is too late. You've already called the Final Aeon. You've played right into Yu Yevon's hands. You cannot stop him."

She lifted her hands over her head and a funnel of fire came down upon her, consuming her. When the fire extinguished, Amalia, in the form of Lady Yocun's Final Aeon, stood in its place. She resembled something like a white dragon, with two sets of long, gold wings and three pairs of eyes. She stood on two legs instead of four, and her body was covered in armored scales.

Jecht immediately charged at her. He swung his sword, but she deflected the attack with a breath of fire. She swung her sharp talons at Jecht's face, leaving cuts across his skin. He stumbled a bit, crying in pain before regaining his footing.

Jecht lifted the sword high and sliced through Sin. Before she could retaliate, he repeated the move. He repeated it again, and again. He attacked so hard and so swiftly that Sin sank to the ground. With one final swing, she dropped completely, defeated. At last, Jecht relented.

Braska returned to his feet and limped toward Sin. His ankle felt broken, but now was not the time to worry about it. Before him, Yocun's Final Aeon vanished in a trail of pyreflies, and in its place lay Amalia.

Braska dropped to her side and helped her remove her helmet. Blood oozed from her nose and mouth. "Sin will come back," she whispered. "Sin will always come back, so long as Yu Yevon lives."

"Please," Braska begged. "Tell me where to find him, so I can put an end to this misery."

"You cannot," she said. "But…perhaps the next one…can."

Her eyes closed, and she released her final breath. A purple mist rose from her lifeless body and floated its way toward Jecht. Braska's eyes widened. "Yu Yevon," he breathed.

The mist wrapped itself around the Final Aeon, then pierced into his entire being. Jecht stumbled around as if in a drunken stupor, clutching his head and groaning in pain. "Jecht, no!" Braska screamed.

When Jecht looked at him, his eyes had become a glowing blue. Braska took a step back, unable to breathe.

Staring straight into Braska's soul, Jecht lifted the sword and swung at him. The summoner raised his staff to defend himself, but it was all for naught. Jecht's sword pierced straight through Braska's stomach.

For a moment, they both just stood there. Braska held his breath, waiting for death to take him. He looked the aeon straight in the eyes, knowing it was Yu Yevon that he was seeing. "You…won't win," he sputtered. "Jecht…has a plan…"

The aeon yanked the sword out of Braska's gut. With a loud, painful cry, Braska stumbled over the edge of the platform, falling into oblivion.

* * *

Braska's eyes flew open and he let out a gasp.

"My lord!" Auron cried.

Braska looked up and found himself lying on the ground and in Auron's arms. He was back in the Calm Lands, back in Spira. The stars twinkled above. A gentle breeze blew by. _Was it just a dream?_ Braska thought.

The gaping hole in his stomach answered the question.

Braska looked up at his guardian. "Auron," he whispered. "You…came back."

Auron shook his head as tears ran down his cheeks. "I couldn't leave you," he said. "Please, Lord Braska. Please. Don't die."

"You were right," Braska said. "Sin…Sin will always come back." There was so much more he wanted to say, but in his dying breath, he could only say what mattered. "Yuna," he said. "Look…after Yuna."

Auron nodded. "I will. I'll take her to Besaid, as I promised. I'll protect her."

A faint smile of gratitude came to his lips, but vanished a moment later. "The Final Summoning…it has to stop."

Auron nodded again.

"They _must_ understand."

"I'll make them understand," Auron promised. "Your death will not be in vain. I will carry on your legacy and put an end to the Final Summoning."

Braska tried to smile again. "Thank you, Auron. It has been my honor…to have you…as my guardian."

At last, he closed his eyes. His head drooped back and his breathing slowed.

"No!" Auron cried. "My lord! Don't go!"

But he was already gone.

Sobbing, Auron touched his forehead to Braska's. Sin was gone, but the price had been heavy. Jecht and Braska had both passed. Auron would return to Bevelle alone.

Suddenly, Braska's body began to fade into a swarm of pyreflies. Auron tried desperately to grasp them, but his efforts were fruitless. "No!" he shouted. "Braska!"

In seconds, the summoner was gone. The pyreflies floated toward the sky, taking Braska's soul away with them. Auron watched them dance away, feeling as rooted to the earth as a tree. Braska was gone, and he was still there. It was completely backwards.

He sat there on his knees, sobbing for a good hour. Everything was over. They were gone. Why were they gone? Why did this have to happen? Braska said the Final Summoning had to stop, for whatever reason. Auron would make it stop.

He climbed to his feet and gazed toward Mount Gagazet in the distance. "This is all _her_ fault," he hissed. Lady Yunalesca had done this. Without her, the Final Summoning wouldn't exist. Braska wanted to put an end to the Final Summoning, so Auron would put an end to her.

He was exhausted. He hadn't slept in over a day. He was parched and starved. But none of it mattered. He would go back to Zanarkand and destroy Yunalesca—or he would die trying.

* * *

 ***SOBS SOBS SOBS***

 **I admit, this was rather hard to write for two reasons: 1) battle scenes are difficult for me and I felt it was a little convoluted, and 2) I KILLED BRASKA! Oh, what have I done?!**

 **So. The final chapter. You can find it posted next Thursday, 10/1. Bring the popcorn and the tissues, because you'll need both.**

 **See you then!**


	19. Aftermath

**It's the final chapter! And I'm sad it will be over soon. :(**

 **Read on for the finale...**

* * *

After two days of travel, Auron found Lady Yunalesca at the same place anyone had last seen her. At the platform in the Zanarkand Ruins, underneath the stars and the black sky, there she stood as if waiting for Auron. "You've returned, Sir Guardian," she said. "All the way from the Calm Lands, you've come. Why aren't you home celebrating?"

"There's nothing to celebrate," Auron growled. "Two people whom I loved dearly were taken away from me."

Lady Yunalesca tilted her head, studying the man before her. "Why do you despair? Summoner Braska knew what would become of him. He gave his life for Spira's sake."

"I don't care about Spira!" Auron screamed. "I care about Braska and Jecht! And now they're…they…" He couldn't even finish his thought.

"Do not mourn them. They have destroyed Sin and brought peace to Spira." She stretched her arms out. "The Calm is upon us once again."

Auron shook his head. "It will not last and you know it. Braska knew it, too. The Final Summoning _must_ stop!"

"Impossible," she said. "The Final Summoning will always be, just as Sin will always be. It can never truly be destroyed."

"How dare you," Auron hissed. "Braska believed with all his might that he would free Spira from Sin for eternity. Now you're telling me it's impossible! Yevon has always told us that if we atoned for our sins, one day, Sin would be permanently destroyed!"

"Yevon's teachings give Spira comfort, but they are not completely true. If no one believed that Sin could ever be truly defeated, sorrow would consume Spira in its entirety."

"So you give them false hope instead!"

"It is the choice that summoners and their chosen fayth have made. Every aeon that defeats Sin thus becomes Sin in its place. The cycle will always continue. Sin is eternal."

Auron blinked. "That can't be true. Jecht…he is not…"

"Sir Jecht _will_ become Sin," she said, nodding. "And the next summoner to defeat Sin, his chosen fayth will become Sin, too. And the one after that, until the end of time."

"Why?" Auron demanded. "Why can't we find another way? This meaningless death, this sacrifice of virtuous people—it all must end! The Final Summoning _must_ end!"

"Without the Final Summoning," Yunalesca said, "Spira would be hopeless. Hope is comforting. It allows us to accept fate, however tragic it might be."

Heaving with anger, Auron unsheathed his sword. "No!" he cried. "Where is the sense in all this? Braska believed in Yevon's teachings and died for them! Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!" Tears of anger and pain and sorrow streamed down his cheeks. He _had_ to make her see this. He had to make her understand Braska's dying wish.

"They chose to die," Yunalesca said, "because they had hope."

Auron's mouth dropped open in shock, at the realization that she would _never_ understand. She, like Braska in the beginning, clung to the Final Summoning as the only solution to Spira's fate.

But something had happened to Braska while facing Sin—something powerful enough to make him agree that the Final Summoning was a sham. Auron would never know what that was, but maybe it didn't matter. What mattered was that this had to end.

With a loud cry, Auron charged at Lady Yunalesca. Rage consumed him, controlling his entire being. He would _make_ her understand, just as he'd promised Braska, even if by force.

He drew his sword back to strike, but she was faster. She raised an arm across her chest, then lifted it over her head, striking Auron down with a blast of magic. He flew backwards, somersaulting repeatedly until he finally came to a stop. By then, he no longer had the strength to move. He lay flat on his stomach, his eyes closed and his heart aching. For some reason, the entire right side of his face burned like no other pain he had ever felt.

He heard Yunalesca leaving but he did not move. He didn't look up. He didn't do anything. He simply remained where he was, hoping death would take him.

* * *

Auron didn't know how much time had passed when he finally awakened. It might've been hours, it might've been days. His limbs were stiff and his head pounded.

He tried to open his eyes but found that his right eye remained shut. He carefully reached a hand toward his face and found a long groove stretching from his forehead to his cheek, caked in dried blood. Trying to open his eye proved to be too painful, so he left it alone.

Groaning, Auron pushed himself to his feet. His left leg buckled underneath him as he tried to stand on his broken ankle. He shifted his weight to his right leg and limped toward his sword, struggling to collect it. He could not give up yet. His job was not finished. He had to get back to Bevelle and find Yuna.

Very slowly, he made his way down the platform. Each step took more energy than he had, but he grit his teeth and continued. It took him hours to leave the Dome, where he collapsed outside under the stars.

He lay on his back, staring up at the twinkling lights. "Braska," he croaked. "We never should've left Bevelle."

He could hear Braska's voice, even now: _But someone had to stop Sin. And we stopped Sin, Auron._

"Yes. But you and Jecht are gone."

 _We will always be with you, no matter where you go._

"It is not the same and you know it."

Braska chuckled. _Nothing can change you, I see._

A bright light appeared before him. Auron shielded his eyes and sat up. In front of him stood Jecht in a glowing, blinding white light. Auron knew he wasn't _really_ there, but that didn't mean he couldn't dream for a while.

Jecht crossed his arms. "You gotta get up, Auron."

"I…can't," Auron breathed.

"Sure you can. You're Sir Auron, after all. Nothin' can keep you down."

"But…I'm so tired. And…I can't do this alone."

Braska appeared at Jecht's side. "You're not alone, Auron."

"Braska's right," Jecht said. "You've got a job to do, buddy. Little Yuna needs you." He approached Auron and offered a hand, but Auron did not take it. He just stared at him. "You said you had a plan."

"You think I don't?" Jecht asked, raising an eyebrow. "Braska didn't die for nothing. I just need time to put things together."

"But…now. Now you will become Sin."

"It won't be this way forever," Jecht assured him. "For once, just trust me."

Slowly, Auron nodded. "Okay. I trust you." At last, he took Jecht's hand and rose to his feet. Jecht gave him a pat on the back. "See? As good as new!"

Auron's eyes watered. "Thank you, Jecht."

"Don't go thanking me just yet." He took a few steps away and gazed out into the distance. "Can I ask you one last favor?" Then, he waved him off. "Uh…nah. Never mind."

"Out with it," Auron demanded.

"Okay," Jecht sighed. "Listen good. Take care of my son. My son, in Zanarkand. He's such a crybaby. He needs someone there to hold his hand, see? Take care of him, will you?"

Auron blinked. "But…how am I supposed to go to Zanarkand?"

Jecht chuckled and faced him. "Hey, you said it yourself. There must be a way to get there, right? You'll find it."

Auron wasn't so sure about that, but regardless, he would find a way. He'd make a way if he had to. "All right. I will. I give you my word. I'll take care of your son. I'll guard him with my life."

A sad smiled crossed Jecht's lips. "Thanks, Auron. You were always such a stiff, but that's what I liked about you."

"You are a true friend, Auron," Braska said. "It's time for all of us to go. Just remember: we're not far away. Keep us close."

Auron nodded. "I will."

He straightened himself up and limped his way out of Zanarkand. Braska and Jecht faded away, returning to his memories. The road ahead was long, but he had work to do. He couldn't quit now.

* * *

By the time Auron reached the outskirts of Bevelle, he was parched, starved, and regularly hallucinating. The walk down Mount Gagazet had taken him two full days. Once he reached dry land, his left hand had suffered terrible frostbite. On his own, he had been more susceptible to fiend attacks. Each battle drained him, yet he still didn't stop.

Crossing the Calm Lands had been the emotional battle. In his mind, he could still see Braska fighting Sin. He had never left that day that Braska told him to. He had tried, but he couldn't do it. If he hadn't stayed, nothing would've been different anyway. Braska still would've died.

The last stretch of his journey from the Calm Lands to the edge of Bevelle had consumed what little energy he still had left at that point. He could see the top of the temple from where he was, but it was at least a five-mile walk. He would make it. He had come this far already, and he would make it.

 _One foot in front of the other,_ he told himself. _Don't stop. Keep moving._ He kept his gaze level and his breathing steady, inhaling with each step he took, and exhaling as he shifted his bad foot forward. The darkness of the night around him made it nearly impossible to see, but he never stopped. He maintained this pattern for over an hour, until he was well into the forest. He ignored the cold. He ignored the shudders of the tree branches around him. He ignored the glowing eyes watching him from the bushes. He pressed forward without relent.

But after another hour, after what he thought was more than enough time to at least get through the forest, he had lost his bearings. The hooting of the creatures around him grew louder. The whispers in his head would not quiet. He wanted to scream.

He turned around, expecting to find some kind of dark figure following him, but he found nothing. Light-headed, weak, and pained, he swayed back and forth before collapsing completely on the forest floor.

He waited for the creatures of the night to descend upon him, but they left him alone for the time being. He lay in the dirt, struggling to stay alive while the sun came up over the horizon in the distance.

Footsteps approached, but Auron was too tired to look up. Auron waited for whatever fiend it was to consume him, but instead, he felt a pair of gentle hands turn him over onto his back. In his blurry vision, he saw a blue face hovering over him. "Auron," a deep voice growled.

"Who…are you?" Auron said.

"Kimahri Ronso," the man replied. "Kimahri saw you in Gagazet."

"The Ronso with the broken horn," Auron sputtered. "Yes…I remember now. I remember you."

"Auron is gravely injured. Kimahri must take Auron to safety."

"There's no time," Auron said, raising a hand in protest. But Kimahri didn't listen. He scooped Auron up in one fell swoop and continued in the direction of the temple. Auron tried to protest, but he could not find the strength. Bobbing up and down in the Ronso's arms, he faded in and out of consciousness.

By the time they stopped, Auron had no idea how much time had passed. He heard other voices and could vaguely make out their conversations, but most of it was a blur.

"What's happened?" a woman exclaimed.

"Sir Auron is gravely injured," Kimahri said. "Sir Auron needs a place to stay."

"Of course he can stay here. Just wait a moment and I'll go get Mr. Rin!"

Auron tried hard to keep his eyes open, knowing that if he passed out, he might not wake up again. He still had much work to do. He couldn't quit now.

"What is going on?" a man asked. In Auron's hazy vision, he saw a blonde man coming toward him with the young woman from before at his side. "What's happened to him?"

"Sir Auron is injured," Kimahri repeated again.

"Sir Auron?" the man asked. "High Summoner Braska's guardian?"

"Sir Auron needs a place to stay."

"Yes, of course. Follow me."

Kimahri carried Auron after the blonde man, Mr. Rin, and his attendant. They wound their way through the halls of the travel agency and entered through a door at the end of the row of rooms. There Kimahri gently placed Auron onto the bed, where he lay in a cold sweat.

"Get him water," Rin told his attendant. "And medicine. He's ill and injured."

Suddenly, Jecht appeared at Auron's bedside. "You're almost there, Auron," Jecht said. "You can't quit now."

"Jecht," Auron whispered. "I'm so…cold…"

The attendant returned with fresh towels, water, and medicine, as instructed. She and the Rin tended to Auron's wounds while Kimahri stood sentry nearby. Even though Auron didn't know the Ronso, for some reason, he didn't want him to leave. He felt safer with him there, as if they shared some kind of connection.

Auron lifted a hand toward Jecht. "Help…me…"

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Jecht promised. "So you can't either. Got it?"

Braska came around the corner and knelt at Auron's bedside. "They're going to take care of you, Auron. But you can't give up."

"You said…Final Summoning…Sin…"

"Save your breath," Braska ordered.

"You'll learn everything in good time, buddy," Jecht said. "Right now, you gotta focus on keeping yourself alive. Yuna and Tidus—they need you."

"Stay awake, Sir Auron," Rin ordered. "You must stay alert."

But it was much too difficult. How he wanted to give in. How he wanted to just slip away, let his soul travel to the Farplane, and be done with all of this.

But if Braska hadn't given up, he couldn't either.

Auron tried hard to focus on the ghostly faces of his fallen friends, but his body seemed to be working against him. No matter how he fought, his eyes drooped shut. The voices around him faded. His breathing slowed. Everything came to a halt, until…

Auron shot up in his bed, finding that night had fallen. His left hand had been bandaged and treated, as well as the cut on his face. He thought only minutes had passed, but it must have been hours, days even.

The room was completely silent and empty except for Kimahri, who stood in the corner peering out the window. Upon hearing Auron awaken, the Ronso turned his attention his way. "Sir Auron is alive."

Auron looked around the room, half-expecting to find Jecht and Braska there, but of course, they were not. Not even his imaginary versions of them. Slowly, he lowered himself to the bed once more. Though he'd been treated and his minor wounds seemed to be causing him a bit less pain, he could feel his body shutting down. He still had a long way to go to get to Bevelle, but at this point, he wasn't sure he would live to make it.

"Mr. Rin has sent for a mage to heal Auron," Kimahri explained. "But that was hours ago, and Mr. Rin has not returned. Mr. Rin cannot find a mage who will help Al Bhed."

"There's no point," Auron said. "I'm…I'm going to die."

"Kimahri will not let this happen."

"No, Kimahri. You must listen." He turned his head toward the Ronso and drew in a slow, deep breath. His stomach and chest ached as if they were on fire from within. Perhaps all of the pain he'd endured over the past few days had accumulated inside of him, and his body was tearing itself apart from the inside. Whatever had happened to him, it was not a simple, superficial wound that would heal in a moment's time. He knew that he really wouldn't survive, and since that was the case, he needed to pass on Braska's torch.

"Lord Braska has asked me to find his daughter in Bevelle," Auron explained, though it was almost difficult to speak. "I can't do it. I'm not going to make it. You must do it for me. It was Braska's dying wish."

"Lord Braska's daughter," Kimahri repeated. "What is her name?"

"Yuna. You'll find her at the temple. Take her to Besaid. He wanted her to go there. She'll be happy and safe there, far away from everything here."

Slowly, Kimahri nodded. "Kimahri swears to Sir Auron, he will find her. Yuna will go to Besaid."

"Thank you, Kimahri," Auron said. "I know it's a lot to ask, but…it must happen. I've tried and failed to do it myself."

"Sir Auron has not failed," Kimahri said, shaking his head. "Sir Auron helped defeat Sin. Sir Auron is legendary guardian now."

Auron's eyes watered. "The fame and glory mean nothing in the end."

"Kimahri will stay with Sir Auron until he passes," Kimahri promised.

"No. You must get to Bevelle as soon as possible. Yuna is alone now. She needs someone to protect her."

After a moment, Kimahri nodded again. He stood up and looked down at Auron. "Kimahri will go to Bevelle."

Auron nodded. "Thank you."

The Ronso turned and headed for the door. In just a quick moment, he was gone. Goodbyes were too difficult to give to dying men. There was more Auron wanted to say to him, but there was no time—not for either of them. They both had places to be. Auron would not die here.

"So what're you gonna do?" Jecht asked, reappearing.

Auron slowly sat up once more, clutching his aching stomach. "I'm going to leave this place."

"And go where?" Braska asked, approaching Jecht's side.

"I don't know. I just…have to go."

"Why?" Jecht said. "Why not just stay here?"

"I'm going to die, Jecht. That's all there is to it."

"Hmph. So you're just feeling sorry for yourself."

He pushed himself to his feet, his face red with anger. "I failed you both."

Jecht laughed. "Not by a long shot, buddy. This isn't the end, you know."

"I couldn't reach Bevelle to find Yuna," Auron said, "and…I'm going to die…so there's no way I'll make it to Zanarkand to find your son. What am I supposed to do?"

"So you're just going to kill yourself instead? You're gonna walk out there, knowing you won't make it five feet, just to punish yourself?"

"I have to do something."

"Death is not always the end of the road," Braska said. "Sometimes, if something is powerful enough to keep a soul bound to the earth, he may stay behind even after his passing."

"An unsent," Auron replied.

"That's right. So you see, Auron: even if you do die, you will still finish the job at hand. You've never been one to leave work undone."

"What…what about Yuna? And Tidus?"

"You'll find a way to them," Jecht assured him. "We believe in you, Auron. You need to believe in yourself, too."

Auron turned and shuffled toward the door, stopping with his hand on the knob. An unsent. He would become an unsent, one of those lost souls wandering aimlessly through Spira. A ghost of the man he once was.

But this was not about him. This was about the promises he had made to two friends who had become like family to him. He would fulfill his oaths, no matter how and no matter the cost. "You're right," Auron said. "I have work to finish."

He looked over his shoulder but found that both Jecht and Braska had vanished once more. Drawing in a quiet breath, he drew himself as tall as he could and opened the door, heading down the hall with a limp. He pushed through the door and into the lobby of the travel agency, where several guests waited. They looked his way upon his arrival, some gasping and staring at the man of walking death. "Sir Auron?" the girl at the front desk asked.

Auron stopped at the door, glancing over his shoulder. "Thank you for everything. Please tell Mr. Rin for me."

"O-Okay. But are you sure you're…?"

Instead of responding, he continued out the door. He didn't want to explain himself. He didn't want to be a burden on these people, who had already saved him. He just had to leave.

Slowly, he limped his way out the front door and headed down the dirt path toward the temple. He knew he wouldn't get far, but he had to move. He had to.

He walked for nearly an hour before collapsing onto his hands and knees just outside the main road leading to the temple. This was it for sure. This was the end.

A bright light appeared before him and he looked up. He watched as Jecht and Braska reappeared and walked into it. Jecht glanced over his shoulder, waving for Auron to follow. "Come on, man. You're holding us up!"

The white light grew brighter. _So this is what death feels like,_ Auron thought. The brighter the light became, the less pain he felt. The burning inside his stomach, the ache in his bones—it all faded away.

"We'll leave without you, Auron!" Jecht's voice echoed.

"He's joking, of course," Braska said. "Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere."

Pushing himself to his feet for the final time, Auron followed them into the light.

* * *

 **WAAAAHHH! It's over. :(**

 **I must say, the time frame between the Final Summoning and Auron's passing was a bit contrived. Some of my sources (including the game) contradicted each other on how exactly things went for Auron after Braska passed. But I did the best with what I had.**

 **Well...I want to thank everyone for reading! I hope it brought you much happiness (even in the saddest moments) and that you sincerely enjoyed it. As always, reviews are appreciated, even if you're coming into the story much later down the road.**

 ***sigh* I guess this is goodbye then.**

 **So goodbye, all! Now go and replay FFX. :)**


End file.
